Masters of the Hunt: Fated and Forbidden

by Sarra Cannon

The ritual grew closer now. I could feel it.

  I took deep, calming breaths, the darkness inside never far from the surface. Its dark fingers scratched at my heart, begging for entry. But I would not let it in.

  After what seemed an eternity, the four women in white appeared again. With a wave of their hands, the vines drew back. The maidens lifted me from the stone, lowering my feet to the floor. They spread a sweet smelling oil across my skin and dressed me in a simple black gown that flowed to the floor. They brushed my hair and took care with each aspect of my appearance, readying me for death.

  In some cultures, human sacrifice was a religious ritual, offering up a human life to appease a god or spirit.

  But the idea of being sacrificed in order to give new life to my own father felt so backwards. So against the natural order of things. What god would demand such a sacrifice?

  But there was no god here. Only monsters and devils. This was a house of pure evil, and I would not allow myself to become their sacrifice.

  As the maidens dressed me, I vowed to find a way to put a stop to the Devil's plans. Even if I died in the process, I could not let him complete the ritual.

  When they were finished, the women in white led me toward the wooden door and knocked once.

  Smoke seeped in from beneath the door and a faceless guard appeared. He studied me, nodded to the women in white, and then lifted the chain binding the door, crushing its links in his fist until it turned to silvery dust in his hand. He opened the door and motioned for me to move.

  I knew by instinct that he was not allowed to touch me. I was a holy vessel now, a sacrificial lamb led to the slaughter.

  I contemplated running, but wondered if that would mean having to go through all those horrible preparations again. It would buy me some time in case Rend was still trying to get to me, but I wasn't sure I could push against the darkness and pain much longer. Its presence was heavy inside me.

  No, I needed to save my energy. I would wait and keep my eyes open for any chance to put an end to their plans.

  The four guards from earlier positioned themselves around me in a square—two in front, two behind. We walked down the row of cells in the dungeon. I studied them one last time, looking for my friends.

  The young girl I’d locked eyes with earlier had retreated to the back of her cell, lost in the shadows somewhere. There was no sign of Annabelle. Had they taken her? Killed her? How long had they been torturing me?

  There was also no sign of my friends. Only strangers whose fate was similar to my own. These women were all nothing but blood and fuel to these demon vampires. Nothing but meaningless sacrifices.

  I walked up the steps, leaving the dungeon area for the first time since they'd brought me into the Devil's castle. The guards led me down an even longer hallway to a circular staircase that seemed to go on forever. I counted the steps as we went, to occupy my mind. Anything not to think about the fate that awaited me once we got upstairs.

  I lost count at one hundred when my knees buckled and I collapsed onto the steps. The guards shared a nervous look. I pressed my hands against the dirty stone step, smiling up at them, sure that my gown and cleansed skin would be marred with dirt and blood.

  But when I stood, every inch of me was still pristine, as if the preparations had put an invisible barrier around me to keep impurities out.

  Or to keep the darkness in.

  At the top of the long staircase, the room opened into a large chamber adorned with intricately woven tapestries and oversized wooden furniture that dated back centuries. The guards led me past suits of polished armor and weapons that seemed to be created for giants, not men.

  What was this place?

  The ceilings were high and the guard's footsteps echoed as we crossed the chamber and entered another hallway. They took me through several rooms before we reached a narrow hallway lined with a deep red carpet.

  The guards stopped, motioning for me to continue alone.

  I held my ground. They couldn't seriously expect me to walk freely to my own death. But something propelled me forward against my will. My bare feet rose from the stone floor, hovering for a moment above the ground. I moved forward through the narrow hallway, the bottom of my gown trailing along the red carpet.

  I kicked my legs and reached out for anything I might grab onto, but the room at the end of the hall beckoned me forward. Just before I reached the large wooden door, it opened, revealing a room lit with thousands of red candles that hovered in the air above.

  My hands fell to my side, no longer under my own control.

  As I entered the room, fear crashed over me like a mighty wave. The heavy door slammed closed behind me, leaving no escape.

  The red carpet continued all the way up through the great ritual room. All along each side of the carpet, hundreds of vampires stood in rows, here to witness my death and the rebirth of one of their founders. They were dressed in black cloaks, their faces hidden under thick hoods, only their red eyes visible through the shadows.

  I floated forward, my body trembling as their red eyes watched.

  As I passed near the front of the crowd of vampires, a row of trembling witches caught my eye and I gasped, tears springing to my eyes.

  Lyla, Misty, and Shay were bound together in chains, along with the child who'd been in the cell across from mine. They all wept as I passed by them, and I prayed that somehow, we would all make it through this horror alive.

  I turned my eyes forward and there, at the end of the carpet, was a large black altar. Behind it stood the Devil. He was cloaked in dark robes of his own, adorned with red jewels. He wore no hood, but his eyes were the reddest of all, hungry for my death and the power it would bring to him.

  A flash of fire spread through me and my eyes were suddenly drawn to a stone. The woman I'd known my whole life as my mother wore it around her neck. She smiled when my eyes met hers, pure evil reflected in her gaze.

  She wore a long black dress that looked like something from a century ago. Layers of fabric stretched out behind her, the gown covering her completely, except for her hands and her chest. The large black stone rested above her heart and when my eyes landed on it, I felt Solomon's power locked within its murky depths.

  My mother's smile faded and her hand fluttered to the stone. She tried to pull it away from her skin, but it wouldn't move. Her face twisted into a grimace of pain.

  I hoped it was burning the shit out of her.

  She fell to her knees and some of the vampires in the room shifted uncomfortably.

  The Devil narrowed his red eyes at her and she swallowed. She gripped the edge of the black altar and pulled herself up, but her eyes were now wide with panic and fear.

  When I reached the front of the room, my body dropped to the floor near the steps leading up to the platform where the Devil and my mother waited. My head bowed to them as if someone were physically holding me down. My hands pressed deep into the lush red carpet.

  “Stand, girl.” The Devil's voice echoed through the room.

  I lifted my eyes to him, hatred burning inside me.

  A thin smile spread across his pale lips. He wanted me to hate him. He wanted me to embrace every dark corner of my heart.

  Part of me fought against it, wanting to go back to that place of love I had found earlier, but my anger was too strong now. I had never asked for any of this. A child should not be punished for the evil deeds of its parents. I should not be judged by my father's darkness.

  The hatred that lived inside me was not born of evil or a thirst for power. It was born of strength and light and a desire for life.

  I pushed myself up from the ground, placing my feet carefully beneath me. I stood straight and tall, wanting him to see that his torture had not broken me. Darkness had not claimed me yet.

  The Devil raised his hands and the vampires moved in unison, their eyes and bodies facing forward like obedient soldiers.

  Shadows danced across his face.

  “Mary Francis, spa
wn of Solomon, come to me.”

  I fought against the puppetry that moved my feet forward, but it was no use. I was compelled to obey. My bare feet walked up the six steps leading to the altar, the black gown flowing softly against my legs.

  When I reached the top step, my entire body rose into the air and twisted so that my eyes looked toward the ceiling and my back was now prostrate to the altar. The Devil pulled his hand toward him and I floated just above the flat, black stone. He lowered his hand and my body obeyed, slowly lowering me to the cold surface.

  He nodded to my mother and she rushed forward, taking my left hand in hers. For all her talk of power and revenge, her fear was evident in the cold clammy hand that clasped mine.

  The stone around her neck seemed to respond to me. It began to emit a dark glow. My mother's hand gripped me tighter and a whimper escaped from her throat.

  She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, her chest rising rapidly with each fear-filled breath.

  When her eyes snapped open again, they were darker, the whites of her eyes turning murky as shadows swirled inside them. She yanked on my arm, pulling it straight out to the side. She pressed my wrist down on the shiny black surface of the stone and an onyx chain snapped around it, locking my left arm in place.

  My mouth went dry. All my hopes of escape or sabotage were quickly disappearing. I had been a fool to think I would have any control over this situation. The Devil's magic was too strong. His plans too detailed.

  My mother moved around to the other side and clasped my right hand.

  Another wave of pain rushed through her and she jerked, her muscles tensing. Her lips parted and she cried out, but did not lose hold of my hand.

  As she had done on the other side, she pressed my right wrist against the stone and another onyx shackle locked my hand in place. She repeated the gesture with both of my ankles.

  My breaths came in rapid succession, my heart beating so fast I thought it might burst right out of my chest. I couldn't let this happen. I would not let them sacrifice me. I couldn't allow Solomon's spirit to be reborn. I would not be the cause of so much pain and death in this world.

  Rend, where the hell are you? I need you now.

  I struggled against the glass-like shackles that held me to the altar, but I knew my strength was not in my arms and legs or my physical body. My true power was within. I had to find a way to connect to that power.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. I focused on the light inside. The light I knew still burned for all that was good and beautiful in this world. I calmed my racing heart, knowing this was my one chance to save myself.

  A breeze blew across my skin, ruffling the fabric of my gown.

  I reached deeper, imagining an endless well of power at my core. I thrust my consciousness into that well, tapping into that unseen essence and letting it flow through me like the blood pulsing through my veins.

  My hair blew around my face as the power ignited within me.

  My eyes snapped open and I saw the flash of fear in the Devil's eyes. His nostrils flared and his fangs extended as his lips parted. He snarled and snapped his fingers.

  “Bring me the sword.” His voice was deep and commanding.

  Footsteps sounded on the steps and Fallon appeared. He handed the Devil a large sword made of pure silver, a diamond embedded in its hilt.

  Solomon's sword.

  I knew it without question. I could feel his power surrounding it. The memories of the evil deeds he had committed with this sword clung to it.

  The Devil wrapped both his bony hands around it, lifting it up with its sharp blade pointed downward toward my heart.

  The room around us hung thick with anticipation.

  He pressed the tip of the blade against my chest, just above my heart. I cried out as a black shadow forced its way through my body and out of my mouth. The smoke swirled around my body rapidly and the darkness of my father's spirit threatened to consume me. It pushed against my skin, boiling to the surface.

  All around us, a great wind roared as my power begged for release.

  “Solomon, my brother, how I have waited for this day,” the Devil said, his voice rising above the sound of the whirlwind I'd created.

  I had held back for far too long, afraid that if I let the dark side of my heritage grow, I would be lost to it forever. But at the moment just before death, I knew that the only way to win was to embrace both sides of myself. To welcome the darkness and use it in my own way. For my own purpose.

  Fallon was right. I could no longer deny who I was.

  “Do it,” my mother screamed. Long tendrils of hair blew across her face and she clasped a hand around the stone at her neck. “Do it now.”

  I sucked in a breath, taking those dark shadows back into my body. I stopped fighting the dark side of my power, drawing it into myself instead.

  The spell that held my power at bay, shattered. My spirit broke free, power blazing through me like hot flames.

  I lifted my arms and the onyx shackles exploded. I gripped the blade of the sword with both hands and pulled it upward.

  The Devil fell back, taking the sword with him. The sharp blade sliced through my skin and my hands began to bleed, but I ignored the pain. I rose, breaking the shackles that bound my legs and flying into the air. Great black wings spread out from my back.

  The vampires near the front cowered, their robes whipping around them as the wind grew stronger.

  “Seize her,” the Devil cried.

  Several of his servants shifted to smoke and flew toward me. I drew my hands inward, close to my body, then pushed out. The vampires sailed back into the crowd, slamming against the floor at their brothers' feet.

  I waited for the next wave to attack, but the assault came from behind. The Devil sliced through one of my wings with his sword and I cried out in pain. I fell, descending to the altar as a black rope of smoke curled around my neck, cutting off my breath.

  My hands scratched at the rope, but couldn't grasp its smokey form.

  I remembered this feeling. I remembered the way the vampire had held me back at Rend's safe-house and how, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't grasp the demon rope.

  The Devil leapt onto the altar. He grabbed my hair and wrenched my head to the side. His fangs pressed against my neck and he brought the blade of my father's sword to my throat.

  Tears of rage spilled down my cheeks.

  Was this the end? Had I lost this fight? What more did I have to give?

  My wings disappeared and I closed my eyes, pain throbbing in my chest.

  But just when I thought all hope was lost, the door at the back of the room crashed open. I lifted my eyes just as Rend rushed through the doorway.

  Chapter 16

  No Greater Sacrifice

  Our eyes met across the great expanse of the ritual room and love washed through me.

  Several witches moved in behind him, Mary Anne leading the way. They dipped their hands into small leather bags and drew out fistfuls of tiny black beads. They crouched low and rolled the beads onto the floor at the feet of the vampires gathered in rows.

  Screams echoed through the room as the vampires shifted to smoke, the essence of their beings writhing in pain as their power was sucked down into the stones.

  The Devil tightened his grip on my hair and pulled his other hand backward, the sword slicing into the skin at my neck.

  I drew in a breath, connecting with the last drop of power inside me. In an instant, my body disappeared, shifting to shadow as I embraced the demon half of my heritage. The sword sliced through nothingness.

  I twirled around, reforming as I gripped the hilt of the sword, pulling it from the Devil's trembling hand.

  His eyes flashed deep red as I lifted my father's sword and sliced his arm from his body.

  He screamed and fell backward, scrambling off the altar, black sludge oozing from his severed limb.

  Chaos erupted around me.

  Vampires shifted and fled
in fear while those most loyal to the Devil stayed behind to fight.

  I glanced back and saw the familiar faces of those I'd met in Peachville as they joined the battle.

  I turned my attention back to the Devil. Fallon had crawled to his master's side, but when I lifted the powerful sword toward him, he backed away, disappearing into the shadows at the back of the room.

  Black smoke swirled around the Devil's form as he struggled to shift, but the pain of his wound had dampened his power. He pushed back with his legs, scurrying across the floor.

  I jumped down from the altar, vengeance gleaming in my eyes.

  I walked toward him with deliberate steps. “I am my father's daughter,” I said with a smile. “You of all people should have known better than to underestimate that power.”

  The sword was heavy in my hand, but I wielded it well. I lifted it high into the air, but before I could end the Devil's life, a dagger plunged into my back.

  I gasped and fell to my knees, the sword clanging to the ground at my feet. Warm blood flowed down my back.

  A trembling hand removed the dagger and my mother stepped around my fallen form, her eyes mad with panic. The stone at her neck pulsed with light, as if a heart were beating deep inside. My mother clawed at the stone with her free hand, her movements jerky and frantic.

  She kicked Solomon's sword from my reach and pointed the small dagger toward me.

  “I am not going to let you ruin this for me,” she spat. “I had a life before you came into this world and you took it away from me. Eighteen long years I wasted taking care of you, and I hated you every second of it. I was meant for more than this. I should have been the one the Mother Crow loved most. I should have been the one she showered with love. But she couldn't see my potential. She couldn't see the great things I was capable of.”

  My vision blurred and sweat beaded on my forehead. Fever spread through my body and I collapsed to the floor, barely able to lift my head.

  Smoke swirled around the large black stone at her neck as Solomon's power pushed against its cage. My mother twitched, her face contorted and wrinkled.

  I pressed my hands flat against the ground and pushed up with all my might, trying to stand. My knees buckled and I fell again to the stone floor. “I refuse to be your sacrifice,” I said.