“She could also tell you that our scents are similar, the sort of similarities that would exist between close blood relatives,” Abel said. “Don’t bother asking her though. I assume that even her confirmation would be suspect to you.” He shrugged. “After all, there are magics in the world that could alter or hide scents.”
“There are,” I confirmed, staring hard at him.
“There is but one magic in the world that cannot be altered, Brother,” he said, walking up so close to me that the barrel of the gun pressed into his chest. “The magic of He who created us, the same magic that surrounds you, that surrounds your name.” he smiled at me again. “Isn’t that right, Cain?”
I braced myself for the instant impact that always came when someone addressed me by my given name. None came though and, with that silence, came a chilling revelation.
No one could call me by my name without incurring the wrath of the Big Guy with one exception. Only someone who existed before the curse was laid on me was exempt, and the number of people who fit into that category boiled down to three.
“Oh God,” I muttered, looking at this man.
He was telling the truth. The person standing in front of me was actually Abel.
2
“How is this possible?” I asked, my voice shakier than I imagined it would be. Looking at my brother had now become a contact sport. Every blink, every movement sent shockwaves of pain and confusion through my body.
Seeing Abel as a vision in my mind had been one thing. There was a part of me who never believed he was real. I figured my unending lifespan had finally gotten to me, and the walking, talking hallucination was nothing more than the first signs of an impending nervous breakdown.
This was different though. Andy saw him. Aria saw him too. Abel was here. He was standing right there, somehow returned to me after all this time.
“How did he do that?” Andy asked, looking from my brother to me and back again. “Shouldn’t the earth have shaken or the roof collapse or something? He said your name, Uncle C. Shouldn’t that have-”
“I need you to go outside,” I said to Andy, swallowing hard and not looking away from Abel. “You and Aria both. Go outside, and call Merry. Find out where she and the others are. Make sure they’re okay.”
“Uncle C,” Andy asked, and though I wasn’t looking at him, I could hear it as he tried to keep his voice steady. “Is that really your brother?”
“Go outside, Andy,” I answered, my tone flat, leaving no room for questions. “Right now.”
He said nothing else. I stood there, staring at my brother as I listened to Andy and Aria exit the room. Once the door was closed, I took a deep breath, finally allowing the weight of everything to come crashing down on me.
“Does the roof really crash in when people say your name?” Abel asked, blinking at me and smiling just a little.
“Sometimes,” I answered. “It’s part of the curse.”
My heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, every bit as fast as it had the day I killed him, the day I was banished.
“That was an innocent man,” I said, pointing to Eric Woodman and sneering at my brother. “He didn’t deserve to die.”
“Did I?” he asked, obviously trying to pull at the still frayed strings of my heart.
“Stop that,” I answered. “This isn’t about what I did to you. I’m paying for that. This is about what you did to him.”
“Perhaps I will pay for that as well, Brother,” he answered. “But, until then, we have much to discuss.”
A flash of anger ran through me. This wasn’t right. Abel wasn’t the type of person to end another human life, not without a damn good reason. Yet, he had. He was standing over a body he was responsible for and, before I knew anything else about his return, I needed to know why.
“Start with why you killed him,” I demanded, still pointing at the body.
“Because of his blood,” Abel answered quickly. “And because he was a dead man anyway.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” I answered, my head still spinning.
“How is it possible that you’ve lived in this world for so long, and yet you still know so little of the way it works?” Abel asked me, shaking his head. “And, for the love of He who created us, please point your weapon somewhere else.”
It was only then that I realized I was still holding the gun against his chest. Quickly, I pulled it away, holding the barrel toward the floor.
“This man’s bloodline was of old magic. Some of the energies used to create the world itself existed within him and his direct ancestors and descendants. Killing off that bloodline releases that energy to the person responsible.”
Of course, I had heard something about this kind of thing during the Dark Ages. It was some kind of primal transference. Still, I thought all those original lines had died out centuries ago. Abel was right. The fact that the existence of one had slipped by me for this long was nothing short of embarrassing.
“But Garreth wanted me to kill him,” I answered, thinking back to the barn I’d just left and the command Garreth had laid on me when he thought I was under his control.
“Because of the nature of it, Brother,” Abel answered. “The energy can be used to create anything, anything at all. So, when one unleashes it, it reads their heart. It brings forth their greatest desire.”
I ran my free hand through my hair, still confused. “My greatest desire?” I balked. “Why wouldn’t Garreth just do it himself then? Why would he want to bring forth my-“
My heart nearly skidded to a stop as I pieced it all together.
“He wanted to bring you back,” I said, swallowing hard. Of all the desires I had ever felt in my permanent life, none meant more to me than what was happening right now. Having my brother back was a dream so deep and so innate that I dared not even consider it. Yet, here he was.
It still didn’t answer the question of how though.
“I didn’t kill him though,” I answered. “I didn’t kill him. You did. So how the hell are you back then?”
“Because what you see is not all that is at play here,” Abel answered. “There were other lines, other energies, and other people who were more successful in their endeavors. The magic brought me here.”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to make sense of what he’d just said. “There are other people in the world whose greatest desire is bringing you back to life?”
It seemed more than a little odd. For most people on the earth, Abel was nothing more than a character, the subject of the world’s oldest cautionary tale. The idea that anyone would want to bring him back to life enough for it to be their heart’s greatest desire sounded insane. Of course, that just meant I wasn’t seeing every piece to this particular puzzle.
“You’re not telling me everything, little brother,” I said, shaking my head at him. “Someone has a purpose for bringing you here, and I have to imagine that purpose has something to do with me.”
“Of course you would think that, Cain,” he said and, though I knew it would be harmless, the sound of my name made me flinch all the same. Old habits, I guess. “Does everything have to be about the Great Wanderer?”
“Why did you kill him?” I asked, ignoring his question. “If you were already brought back, then why would you kill this man?”
“Because I had to, and because he wanted it,” Abel answered. I would have asked him to explain, but he continued. “Eric Woodman knew of the consequences his bloodline’s death would bring. Given the fact that he was all who remained, he knew there would be a target on his head.”
“A target from who?” I asked, blinking hard. “Who would be after him?”
“All who wanted power. All who were willing to kill for it, and all who-unlike you- know more about this world than what falls into his lap.”
A flower of anger blossomed in my chest. “I know a lot about this place, Abel,” I answered.
“I disagree. For someone who has been here since the start, you know
very little about the truth of things.” He looked to the floor, and then back at Eric Woodman. “Once word got out, he would be dead in minutes. He knew the energy would have to go to someone, and that their greatest desire would then be filled, regardless of their nature.” He nodded. “He came here to kill himself. Instead, I came to him, and told him of my heart, and he agreed to allow me the power to use the way I wished.”
My face tightened. I hadn’t thought about that. If Abel killed Eric, that meant his heart’s desire would soon be fulfilled. But what was it?
“How’d you use it, Abel?” I asked. “What’s going to happen now?”
Abel sighed, shaking his head and biting his damn lip again. “I wish you would not have asked that, Brother.”
“Why?” I asked, looking him up and down.
In a flash, Abel came at me. His fist landed hard against my throat and, as the air left my windpipe, I felt him grab the gun.
“Abel!” I shouted. Still, he didn’t so much as hesitate. He pointed it at me and fired. The hot lead drove into my chest and, with an explosion of pain, I fell on my back against the floor right next to Eric Woodman.
For all the turmoil I had over the idea of shooting someone who simply might have looked like my brother, Abel did it just like that, without even flinching.
I guess that evened the score between us.
He settled over me, looking down. “That is why, Brother. That is why.”
3
There had never been anyone in the word who had lived as long as I had. It was impossible. The world itself was only a few years older than me and, given that they were spent with a scant two people traipsing around this big, blue globe, they hardly counted.
Still, I had been around long enough to know not to take anything for granted. I had been around more than a few bends and hardened my heart and mind enough as to not allow myself to be surprised by people anymore.
Most people were a combination of good and horrible depending on the circumstances they found themselves in. They were capable of great acts of charity and horrific acts of depravity. I never let them get the drop on me. That was who I was; prepared to a fault.
This time however, there was no way I could have seen this coming.
My baby brother, the person who I’d spent nearly the whole of eternity mourning in one way or another, had just shot me in the chest.
He stood over me, looking down at me with eyes that were sad and distant. My mind flooded with thoughts as blood poured from my chest, mixing with the dried blood of Eric Woodman, who lay next to me.
If I had been literally anyone else in the world, I would end up like him too. I would be a corpse on the ground, and soon enough, Andy or Aria would come in and find me here, dead and betrayed.
I was not like everyone else in the world though, and my brother must have known that somehow, as he knew so much about what was happening here.
I knew little of the after life, given I would never experience it myself. Still, the stories about being able to see what’s going on from there must be true. Otherwise, how would my mother have returned as she did? How would Abel have come back now, and how would he know so much about the mess I’d found myself in?
I opened my mouth to speak. No words would come. There was only a dry ache in my throat as a low grumble escaped through my lips. I wasn’t sure what I would have said anyway. Was this revenge, plain and simple? Had my brother pulled himself through the gates of paradise just to even the score with me?
It didn’t seem likely. If Abel was the same person who I’d seen for over a hundred years in my mind now, then he didn’t hold a grudge. He had forgiven me. He had moved on, and made his peace with the horrible thing I did to him all those millennia ago.
So what was up with this?
I heard the door swing open and instantly knew what happened. Andy and Aria must have heard the shot and rushed in to find me on the floor. I wouldn’t stay this way though. I had fallen victim of the Romani before and lay there, helpless as an infant, as the fight went on all around me. That would not happen again. Besides, I couldn’t just sit back this time. Andy and Aria would kill Abel for this. They would rip him in two to keep me safe.
Okay. Andy would do it to keep me safe. Aria would do it because it was fun and because, when it was over, she’d have several fresh pints of blood to live off if.
“What the hell?” I heard Andy’s voice boom from near the door.
Abel’s head shot toward the noise and he bit his lower lip. “Please do not make this hard,” he answered. “My brother will survive this. The two of you would not.”
What the hell kind of person had my brother become? Was he really going to kill two people just to stop from having to answer a question?
I took a deep breath, and my chest boomed with pain. I had to push through it though. My lung would probably collapse. My heart might even stop if the bleeding didn’t soon. I couldn’t let that get to me. I would still be alive. I’d still be conscious for a few minutes and I needed to make sense of all of this.
Aria didn’t pay my brother’s warning any heed. I could tell because, it no sooner had the words left his mouth, that a blur smashed into him quickly.
The vampire was about to have her fun. I couldn’t allow that. I had just gotten my brother back. It would take more than a bullet to the chest for me to consent to his being murdered all over again.
“Aria!” I screamed, moving my arms enough to push myself up. “Stop this!” I moved up onto my elbows and looked off at the end of the barn.
The vampire was over my brother. She had knocked the gun out of his hand easily and her fangs were drawn.
“Aria stop!” I screamed, and felt a presence beside me.
“Uncle C, are you okay?” Andy asked. He moved around me and started applying pressure to my wound.
I pushed him back with what little strength I had, partially because having his press against my chest like that hurt like hell, and partially because I couldn’t have him getting in the way. If I couldn’t stop Aria, I was going to have to put her down, and that could get messy given my current condition.
“Uncle C, you have to let me look at that!” he said, moving toward me again.
“Back up Andy!” I warned, and somehow pushed myself up off the ground to my feet. I stood wobbly, adrenaline helping to keep me upright as I watched Aria move toward my brother’s throat.
Barely thinking, I pulled the knife from my pocket, the one charmed to be able to cut through anything, flicked open the blade, and threw it right at Aria’s head.
She stopped short, turning around and catching it with her bare hand. Luckily, the blade didn’t knick her. Otherwise, her blood would be all over this place too.
Her eyes widened as she looked at me, holding the knife as though she didn’t understand what it was.
Her fangs made her words mumbled. Still, I understood them. “Why would you-”
Before she could finish a blast of bright white energy drive into her, whipping her head back and sending her flying through the roof. I looked up at the Aria shaped hole in the wood and metal and then back at my brother.
The same white energy crackled around him, surrounding the man.
He had magic now. We were screwed.
“Go get her,” I said to Andy, huffing loudly, blood still pouring from my wound.
“Uncle C, she went through the roof,” Andy answered.
“She’s a vampire,” I explained. “Unless one of those splinters of wood pierced her heart, she won’t die from it.”
“And what if one of them did?” he asked as my brother stood up.
“Then I’ll have made a whole new set of enemies,” I answered. “It wouldn’t be the first time. Now go!”
“I won’t leave you here with him,” Andy answered, a hand pressed at my back, which I realized was one of the only things keeping me standing.
“You will,” Abel said flatly. He flicked his wrist forward and Andy flew backward too, slam
ming through the door and disappearing into the darkness outside.
“You do not touch him! Is that understood?” I growled, wobbling even more without Andy’s steadying hand to keep me semi sturdy.
“You care for him. That surprises me,” Abel said, walking toward me, white energy circling him like one of those made up angels in a fantasy movie. In real life, angels didn’t look like this. Only the worst things in the world did, and now my brother could be added to that list.
“It shouldn’t,” I answered, pain so great in my chest that it caused my stomach to turn. “You watched me. We spoke for over a hundred years.”
“We did, Brother,” he admitted, seemingly confirming that the visage I had been seeing was- in fact, really him. “I came to you when you needed me most and, during none of that, did you call out for him or anyone else. In fact, you seemed desperate for death during most of that century. It was difficult to watch.”
“Is that why you did this?” I asked, starting to feel sleepy and woozy. “You thought I wanted to die?”
“I know you want to die, Brother,” he answered. “But only a fool would consider that possible. No magic could change what was done to you. You will never taste death. You will never know peace. I could not change that even if it was my goal here.” He shook his head. “Alas, it is not.”
“Then tell me, Abe,” I said, my voice not nearly as hard as it would have been if anyone else who had ever lived would have been responsible for the wound I was now dealing with. “Tell me what you’re really here for, but do it quickly. Neither of us have much time left.”
My mind went back to the day I found out my mother returned, the way I was forced to kill her, and the method I used to do it.
“You shot me, Abe,” I said, feeling sleep dance around the edges of my mind. “You know enough about me to know what the curse entails. You might have been able to say my name without dealing with the consequences, but even you can’t get around the sevenfold part of it.” I swallowed, slumping against a wall as my breathing came short and labored.
Rise of Cain (Immortal Mercenary Book 3) Page 2