by Kim Faulks
But sitting with the silence wasn’t.
Fragments of the drive to the mountains returned. Like a shattered mirror, I saw the man I’d once been. That man was numb to me now, and just as distant as the words…father…husband.
So many faces—so many masks.
And all for nothing.
In the end, only one mask mattered. One mask to consume all others. It was the mask of a mortal…the mask that smothered, that suffocated, and ultimately snuffed at the end. That mask still clung to me. I could feel its icy touch like a caress across my cheek. Like a whisper of words, that if I listened hard enough, I could almost make out…
The click of a radio pierced the thought, and the static-muffled tone of the radio consumed the silence. I listened to the announcer, listened to the carnage of this world. More bombs, more horror. More Marines gone missing.
And through it all, I felt nothing. Not horror, not disgust, not even anger at the injustice. I just felt empty. Minutes slipped into hours while I sank into that cold, empty well.
“Commander, we’re here.”
I opened my eyes to the familiar, to the half-built houses and empty parcels of land stuck in the middle of this forest, and, in the distance, shoved to the back like a forgotten memory, was the eight-foot-high fence around the original lodge.
There was movement behind the barricade. The muffled drone of a saw and drills slipped in through the Bronco’s cracked window. So many damn questions. I’d been here for days, scanning through files, asking the hard questions, and I was still no closer to finding the truth.
Not to this place, and not the damn compounds.
The Bronco cut a hard left and then the right, pulling up in front of the small, timber home.
“I’ll come by later to check on you,” Alfie called as I yanked the handle and stepped out of the truck.
“Don’t bother,” I turned my head to glance over my shoulder. “I just need some time alone.”
I needed more than time. I needed space, needed answers, needed this ache in my chest to ease just a damn little.
I shoved the car door closed behind me and made for the small verandah. The dirt was scuffed, the hard tread of Marine-issue boots had left impressions behind.
Someone had been here…and recently.
Steel sparkled against the dark wood. I stilled my steps and searched the shadows. The thick lock hung open, key hanging from the barrel. I scanned the area, finding nothing.
I’d asked for a lock, one to keep prying eyes from what was inside.
It seemed someone made good with the request.
The small dark cabin stuck out amongst the fresh, raw buildings. It was set back from the others, almost on the fringe of thick-butted pines at the edge of the forest.
The place was deserted when I arrived. But the suffocating stench of animal still lingered in the rooms, no matter how long the place was aired.
I was told the shifter’s name was Raven. He was a Wolf, an Elder, a magic man Alpha called him. I cut a glance to the shadows. He’d run away, something about Demons and Wolves--and a Vampire Prince. I’d caught my fair share of sideways glances from the other shifters who called Soteria home. But none had stepped forward to stake a claim.
So the place was a loaner.
And right now, it was peace.
I made for the door and yanked the key from the lock. The heavy growl of the Bronco’s engine filled the air. I didn’t wave, didn’t even wait for him to leave, before I shoved open the door and stepped inside.
Shadows clung to the walls and the floor.
That’s all this place was, cold, dark…animal.
I closed the door behind me and hit the lock. Shadows moved. The floor shifted, bowing in and out like quicksand under my feet. I closed my eyes and felt the sway. In my mind, I was sinking, falling down a hole I’d never get out of.
And at the bottom of that hole, death waited.
My pulse thundered, sending a quake through my chest. I reached for my throat and skimmed the open neckline of my shirt. The sting of the needle came to life. I probed my chest, finding tender flesh at the swell of the muscle. I shoved against the wall and made for the kitchen.
Files were staked in piles on the table, one still open, black and white photos bare for all to see, but it was the drawer next to the sink I wanted.
My fingers felt thick and numb. I gripped the knob and yanked. Cutlery clanged, slamming against the inside lining. There was a small mirror, just a rectangle, the edges chipped and brown. But it was all I needed.
I snatched the mirror and lifted, craning my neck, and angled the reflection. There was nothing but smooth, pink flesh, and the hard cartilage ridge of my throat.
A hard knock at the door echoed.
The mirror slipped from my fingers and smashed to the floor.
“Commander,” Leon called from outside the door.
I stared at the shattered shards at my feet and then closed my eyes.
“Commander, Platoon Sergeant Tuck asked me to check on you,” the Lance Corporal’s voice softened. I could almost see his hand at the door. “Sir, if there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know. I have rounds now, and can swing by in an hour or two.”
Don’t…the word hovered on my lips.
Don’t bother. Don’t come back…don’t stay…don’t call me that anymore.
I’m not a Commander, not a man…not anything but a failure.
Footsteps echoed from the front door, and slowly faded away.
They looked to the wrong man—I wasn’t what they needed.
I couldn’t be.
I sucked in a hard breath—but there was no air. The walls swayed, glass shards glinted at my feet. There was something wrong…something very wrong.
Everything…everything was wrong.
This house. These people. My men. This war…those things…
Those things…those things…My hand went to my throat. Those things that bit and clawed. Those things that killed with mindless hunger. Those things that were once us.
We couldn’t win. We couldn’t even fight…
I couldn’t fight.
Heat bloomed in my chest. I stumbled, gripped the back of the chair and tried to inhale. My throat clenched, belly bowed as the flames licked my throat.
A harsh wheeze filled my ears, sounding small and pathetic. Nails scraped my flesh, thick, round nails that left a sting. I wrenched my gaze down to my own hand as the shadows reached out with spindled claws.
And in a second, I was back there, on the ground, with the sickening sound of tearing flesh in my ears, and the sounds of death all around.
I died today…the thought settled like a shroud.
I died and I went…
Darkness filled me, darkness and fear and longing.
I swung a feeble blow and hit the stack of files. The scream came from nowhere, bubbling up to the surface to shred the tender new flesh of my throat.
Pages flew, filled the air like a thousand doves, and scattered across the floor.
I died today…I died.
My knees buckled, and I hit the floor. Pages crinkled under my weight. Photos came to life through the blur of tears. Men in cages. Women screaming…no, not women…young girls.
Young girls the same age as my Neve. My fingers shuddered and shook, dancing along the edge of the image. I tried to grasp it, tried to find her face…tried to understand.
But there was no understanding monsters.
Not when they take your men from under your nose.
And not when they attack on a perfect Spring day with the sunlight streaming through the breaks in the clouds—not when all your career, you could see what was happening…and you never asked why?
“I failed you,” the words were wet against my lips. “I failed all of you.”
They tasted like blood, and they smelled like betrayal.
My betrayal. I clutched the image and leaned backwards. My breaths were razors, each draw slicing a little
bit deeper. But this pain was nothing compared to theirs. Images were scattered on the floor all around me. I reached for another, and then another.
Their pain was my pain.
Their death a memory of my own.
They were nothing more than nameless faces.
They were the forgotten—the alone…the real warriors.
I closed my eyes as a scream filled my head…Ander! ANDER!
Corners crinkled as I clutched the images to my chest. The thick and musty scent of male closed in. Shadows danced across my skin with an icy touch. I shuddered, and exhaled. Power danced, standing the hairs on my arms on end.
Something moved inside my mind…like a presence that lingered in the darkened edges.
The heavy stench of male carried with it something else, something foreboding and old…magic man…the words surfaced.
Magic man…
A whistle pricked my ears. The wind picked up to howl through the cracks in the walls. My pulse slowed, each thud quaked my body. I could almost feel them out there, hunting, running. Cold earth soft under their feet. Their lungs burning with every frigid draw of breath.
My muscles twitched, the need consuming.
This isn’t right…not normal.
The thought surfaced, and with it came the sting of the needle. I reached for my chest, and massaged the muscle. Terror filled me as the need took flight. I released the images and shoved from the floor.
I slipped, stumbled, hit the floor again. Pain slashed through my knee as I pushed up, and lunged for the bathroom. Still the urgency filled me, and the sweet scent of dusk invaded the cabin, haunting me as I stumbled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind me.
Buttons popped under the strain, flying to hit the thin plastic curtain. I shoved and yanked, tearing the shirt from my arms, and fumbled with my belt.
Hunger raged, cranking my pulse higher. A growl slipped from my lips. I couldn’t get my pants off fast enough. Couldn’t get under the cold spray, couldn’t drown the need. I yanked a foot high, and balanced on the edge of the tub. The zipper slipped under the force of my fingers before I stepped down and drove my foot against the heel.
The boot flew through the air and hit the cabinet with a thud. I fumbled with the other with one hand and reached for the faucets with the other.
The hiss of the water filled the air. I kicked the other boot free and my trousers slipped, pooling around my feet. I yanked, stepping free with one foot, to stand under the spray in my underwear, socks, and towing my trousers behind.
The ping of buttons and steel rang out against the enamel tub. Bitter cold splashed, needle-like spray hit my cheeks and ran through my beard.
I closed my eyes and lowered my head. The steady thrum drowned out everything, my heart…the howls…and the scent of Wolf in the air. But it didn’t stop the memories…or the pain.
I tilted my head backwards, and the sting hit my throat.
Like a bite…like fangs.
I yanked my head backwards, and slammed my hand against the chipped and cracked tiles. Fingers curled as rage surfaced. I wanted to hit…I wanted to hurt.
I cocked my fist and unleashed, driving it into the tiles. The wall shuddered, figures raced, carving a line through the faded grout.
Like I hurt.
The blow was a blur, slamming into the wall. The corner of the tile cracked, leaving blood behind.
Like…I hurt.
I smashed into the wall again. Blow after blow, leaving behind a mess of faded blue flowers on white ceramic smeared bright with crimson blood.
You’re infecting us. What the Hell did you think was going to happen?
I stared at the broken tiles and sucked in a breath.
Infecting…no, enhancing, yes. The DNA I give you attaches to your own, it doesn’t replace it. You’re still the same man, Commander. Still the same mortal man. It’s just that you now have some added benefits.
Still the same man. I dropped my head under the water. The spray ran over my ears and down my face. Still the same man.
I twisted the faucets and stepped from the tub, yanking the sodden trousers free. I peeled the socks from my feet and shoved down my underwear before I lifted my head.
Shards of ceramic stuck out from the busted tiles. Blood mingled with drops of water to find every groove. I could still feel Doc’s wrist in my grip, skin sliding as I twisted, bones crunching as I pulled. I could still see the pain in her eyes, and the way she rubbed her flesh. But it was the way she looked at me…as no longer the good guy.
She was wary…scared, even.
I hurt her. I made her fear.
Still the same man?
Maybe not the man…but maybe the monster?
Maybe I’d been the monster all along?
Daddy! Don’t go…Don’t leave me. Neve’s cries filled my head. Pain, hurt, rage echoed in Hanna’s eyes. I hurt her too, failed her. Failed both of them. The tide swelled inside me, dark and unforgiving. I grasped the handle and wrenched open the door.
Icy whispers danced across my skin as I stumbled for the kitchen. Darkness clung to the edges of the unopened bottle of scotch, a gift from Alpha, and beside it was my weakness.
A picture of a family…a happy fucking family.
Their smiles haunted me, my Hanna…and my Neve.
My knuckles popped and stung as I grasped the bottle and made for the sink. The overturned number sat on the edge. One plate. One knife. One fork. One fucking pointless existence.
I tipped the bottle, splashing my foot before the flow found the bottom of the glass. The edge of the glass hit my tooth. I opened my mouth and swallowed. The heat was instant, burning all the way into my gut.
Daddy…don’t leave me. I swallowed and turned to that picture. The only damn one I had left.
Faint howls slipped inside the cabin. Power danced, stealing the burn in my belly. They fought, they hunted…I hadn’t heard them before—I tipped the bottle, refilled the glass and drank—as a non-drinking fucking man, I hadn’t heard a thing.
“But you can hear them now, can’t you?”
I clutched the glass with one hand, the bottle in the other, and stared into the shadows.
Moonlight danced from pale skin at the doorway of the kitchen. Pale eyes stared back at me. Energy raced along my skin as the outline moved closer. “Can’t you, Commander?” The Vampire whispered. “You can hear them now…”
I shook my head, clutched the tumbler, and swallowed.
Not real. Not here.
I closed my eyes. The boom of my heart echoed. I was captured by the sound…one…two…three…as the truth slipped from her lips in a whisper.
“And you don’t know how to deal with that, do you?”
8
Annabelle
“You.”
Blue eyes blazed like an arctic storm. Hard muscles flexed as he swayed, drawing my gaze down to the lean muscles of his belly, and then lower.
The Commander was a perfect mess.
A raging tornado inside mortal flesh…and the most beautiful, warm-blooded male I’d ever seen.
The bottle sparkled with the moon’s soft glow. He clutched the glass like it was all he had in this world, and then lifted it to his lips. The bitter scent bloomed as the liquid spilled, glistening against his beard.
But he was wrong. He was so very wrong.
The scent of fresh blood lingered in the air. I glanced at his busted knuckles, and then the sodden curls of his damp hair. He was so fragile in this moment. More than he understood. If he’d only listened to the Doctor’s warning, then maybe he’d understand. “Self-pity. It’s not very becoming, Commander. Not for a man like you.”
His lips curled, hate spewed. “What the fuck would you know?”
I lifted my gaze to his. “More than you, it seems.”
“What the Hell do you want from me?” He growled, but pain leaked into his words.
To touch you. To understand you…and then maybe I might understand myself. “This
is my fault,” I whispered. “I gave you too much.”
His chest heaved with a sudden breath. He didn’t hear me. His eyes shone, muscles twitched. “I died today.”
He watched me with predatory eyes.
“I know. But now you’re here, and you need to learn to deal with that.”
A snarl filled the air. Soft, husky, and feral. “You don’t understand…”
“You want to hate something? You want to hurt someone?” I opened my hands. Slow steps. Soft words, urging him closer. “Hurt me, hate me…after all, I’m the monster, aren’t I? I’m the thing you’re terrified you’ll become?”
He flinched. “Vampire,” the word was a whisper from his lips.
“Yes, Vampire. Hunter, blood-drinker, undead…that’s what I am. That’s what I’ve always been. I’ve killed, more than you know. Because that’s what I am.”
His knee buckled, dropping him for a second before he threw out a hand and clutched the wall. He was still spiraling, falling into a well of hopelessness that would drown him. I took a step closer and murmured, “I would’ve killed you, too, without even a second thought.”
“I died today,” he dropped his gaze.
“I know.”
He shook his head, and shadows moved as he found my stare.
His grip slipped. The half-filled bottle hit the floor with a thud.
Alcohol splashed my boots, and energy cracked, like the birth of a perfect storm.
The Commander lunged, covering the distance between us faster than any mortal could.
Cruel fingers dug deep as he gripped my arms. “You don’t fucking understand!”
But then I saw love hidden within his eyes.
Love and loss…and longing.
“You want to hate me?” An ache flared as I whispered. “Then hate me. Pull my hair. Bury yourself deep.” His hard chest brunted mine, forcing me backwards until I hit the wall.
There was nowhere to go…not for him, and not for me. “But you can’t, can you? You can’t stand to touch…not my cold body, or my colder mind. You want to be safe in your little cocoon of betrayal and deceit. You want to pretend the monsters aren’t real—that I’m not real.”
Those arctic eyes blazed. The man and the beast collided…the true one. The one smothered under a lifetime of rigid responsibilities. The one who was there all along.