The Prophecy Of Hope

by Kelly Hall

  “Do you think this really is the stigmata?” asked Aziel. “Maybe Jarreth’s dad is mistaken.”

  “I don’t know. Unless Grady was demon possessed, I can’t think of anything else that might give him the strength or the audacity to take on the rogue camp. And if the injuries are what Brock says, it could be nothing else. With so little account of what the stigmata really is, it’s hard to tell.”

  “What happens if it takes my light again? I’m not sure that I should be around this thing.” His bitter tone was no better than Dixon’s.

  Rebekah raked her hand through her hair and sighed. “I don’t know. I doubt we’ll even see Grady. He’s probably miles away from the camp, and he doesn’t know I’m returning.” The what-ifs were making her head spin. “Let’s just get there and see what we’re facing.”

  Her phone rang in her pocket, and she pulled it out, seeing Delilah’s name on the screen. “It’s a call from home,” she said with a smile. “We might have to wake up sleeping beauty.”

  As the others laughed, she answered. “Hey, Delilah. How are things holding up at home?”

  “Not so good, I’m afraid,” she said with a somber tone that put Rebekah immediately on alert. “We were attacked.”

  “Attacked?” Rebekah reached over and put her hand on Canter’s shoulder as the wind left her lungs like she’d been hit in the gut with an anvil.

  Canter took the next exit and pulled over on the side of the road.

  Aziel leaned up between the seats and nudged Jarreth.

  Rebekah put the phone on speaker. “Are you okay? Is everyone okay?” Rebekah thought of Frankie and the baby, hoping that Grady hadn’t by some chance already made his way to the other country.

  Canter held his breath and hoped that Katie had made it through.

  Delilah’s voice was a comfort to Jarreth, though her tone had him aching to hold her. “Father Timms has an injured shoulder and arm. He might lose some of the mobility. We called for Frankie’s doctor.”

  “Oh my. Who attacked? Did anyone get killed?”

  “No, we’re all alive. It was vampires. They were looking for you. We killed them all.”

  “How many?”

  “Eight of them.” Delilah’s tone was so grim that Rebekah had a feeling there was more to it, but before she could say anything, Jarreth and Canter took over the questioning.

  “You killed eight vampires?”

  “How’s Katie?”

  Their questions overlapped, but Delilah made them out. “Katie’s good. She’s tired from kicking some vampire ass, but otherwise in one piece.”

  Rebekah was certain Delilah’s enthusiasm was off. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

  “I don’t know how,” said Delilah, her voice breaking.

  “Just spit it out.” Rebekah knew that ripping a bandage off was better than pulling it slowly, and her tone was much harsher than she meant it to be.

  “It’s Liam,” said Delilah, her voice becoming strained as she began to cry. “He was bitten. I tried to kill the vamp, but it bled all over him. Liam was screaming, and the blood got in his mouth. He spat it out, but I’m pretty sure it was too late.”

  “He’s infected?” Rebekah closed her eyes. With Liam being human, he was susceptible to vampirism. Being bitten wouldn’t do it alone, but being bitten and then drinking their blood? It was going to be a miracle if it didn’t kill him. Not everyone could survive the virus, and if they did, they still might end up a mindless, crazy fiend. Either way, the boy’s fate was sealed.

  “Yes. We’re pretty sure.”

  “Dammit,” said Canter, upset that he hadn’t been there to do something.

  Delilah’s voice went squealy. “It’s my fault. I should have been more careful. I practically poured the blood down his throat with my stupid decision. I was just trying to get it off of him.”

  Jarreth’s heart broke for her. “It’s okay, baby. It’s not your fault. It could have happened to any of us. You did good. You all killed them and stopped them from hurting anyone else.”

  “Was Ignis there? Let me speak to him.” Rebekah thought if Ignis got on the phone, he would be more capable of giving her answers.

  “He wasn’t here during the attack, no. And he’s gone down to the south tower’s wreckage to burn the bodies. He wanted to do it before morning.”

  “He wasn’t there?” Rebekah’s blood boiled.

  “He showed up right after.”

  “When did the attack happen?” She had a feeling some hours had passed since the doctor had been to see Father Timms and Liam.

  “Just after dark. Around seven thirty, after dinner. Mace had just brought up my new sword.”

  She wasn’t going to focus on the fact that Ignis hadn’t gone straight home as promised. Instead, she had to focus on Liam’s transition. “Liam should have around three days.”

  “That’s what Ignis said. He’s made a place for him in the dungeon, away from the sun.”

  Rebekah wasn’t going to go into detail about what would have to be done or what was going on in her mind. “You’re a brave huntress, Delilah. I need you to hold tight and help Ignis keep watch over the castle. I can call for backup from Dublin if you need it.”

  “Ignis thinks it was an isolated incident, but if you want to call them and have them on standby, I’m not opposed. We could use all the help we can get.” Delilah was desperate to not deal with it alone.

  “I’ll call them right away and have the send their men to check on you. When I get back, we’ll discuss having some of them bunk in the east tower if needed. The accommodations there are slightly outdated, but they’d be comfortable.” The previous owners had renovated the east tower for their personal home, and that was where she stayed while making her own renovations, deciding to keep the east tower for guests.

  “Okay, I’ll tell Frankie and Lulu.”

  “Spare no expense for hospitality if needed and call if you need me.”

  Jarreth leaned up closer to Rebekah’s seat. “I love you, babe. I’ll be home as soon as possible.”

  “Love you too. Be safe.”

  Rebekah ended the call, and they fell silent, the car seeming like someone had just sucked all of the energy and life out of the cab.

  “I can’t believe they took out eight vamps,” said Jarreth.

  Rebekah agreed, but Canter shook his head. “I can believe it, but I want to be there. We need to get this trip behind us and get home.” He also wanted to make a stop on the way and buy that ring. Knowing how close he had come to losing her again only made him want to hold on to her even more.

  Chapter 18

  Kayne paced his castle room, and with each pass of his window, he peeked down at the crashing waves below. As if the waves were controlled by his anger, their fury matched his own. He had never been one to worry, but there was something gnawing on his mind that he couldn’t shake.

  “Fucking mage.” Ignis had come looking for his shadow, and since Kayne had traded it to Papa Midnight, he hadn’t seen the thing in ages.

  Shadows were the darkest part of someone’s soul, and the very first moment he met Ignis, he knew the mage had one hell of a dark side. Hoping to glean a little of the mage’s power and knowledge, he took the shadow in exchange for his blood, hoping that Ignis could deliver as promised; a woman who might be strong enough to be his equal and bear his children.

  To Kayne, who at that time had decided to give up the hope of a true progeny after so many failed attempts, the idea brought renewed hope to his dark heart that a woman strong enough to bear his children might be made especially for him.

  The trade seemed like a no brainer. But the shadow had been more of a pain in the ass than the mage himself, and so Kayne had put the darkness away until he needed it. His ace in the hole. A bargaining chip.

  Fiona sauntered into the room, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Did you erase the girl’s memory?”

  Kayne hated Fiona’s sense of entitlement. “We had an un
invited guest, so yes, I did. I sent her on her way.”

  Her eyes shadowed with anger. “The Immortal Huntress was here again?” She closed her eyes and held up her pointed nose. She did not smell the Huntress’s scent in the air. She wasn’t going to stand for him having their enemy in the castle, putting the entire staff in danger.

  “No, and it’s none of your business.”

  “This is my home too, and if there is anyone or anything here that is a risk, then I should know about it.”

  “It is my house, and you’ll know what I allow. Now get the fuck out of my sight!” His anger shook the walls, and though Fiona had seen that kind of power from him before, she hadn’t seen it in some time.

  Without a word, she did as she was commanded and made herself scarce, but Kayne’s anger was only going to grow worse until he knew where the shadow was. He didn’t have time or the ability for useless emotions like guilt and regret, and with each one manifesting in the form of anger, things were bound to worsen.

  Could he really be responsible for whatever had come after Rebekah? The last thing he wanted was to put her at risk. At least until he figured out what Ignis had meant. If he’d used her enemies to create her, could that mean that Rogan’s blood was coursing through her veins too? It was bad enough knowing that Ethan’s was, but Rogan’s too? The only good thing about that was the fact that it did indeed make Rebekah stronger. Maybe even strong enough to bear his child.

  He hissed out another expletive as he dematerialized, leaving the room empty.

  Not wanting to waste time in a peacock-gilded antechamber or fighting a crowd of his enemies he couldn’t slaughter for shits and giggles, he reformed inside Styx at his usual table where the red velvet banquette smelled like cigars and sex.

  He had one person in mind that he needed to see, but Kayne wasn’t about to hunt for him. Papa Midnight no doubt knew when Kayne entered his establishment, and being the epitome of what VIP stood for, he knew it was only a matter of time before the demon sent for him.

  No sooner had he gotten comfortable than a young vampire sauntered up, her hair as red as the flames of hell and her obsidian eyes twinkling like embers. “Papa Midnight has requested your company.” She kept her stare fixed on the floor as he stood and then turned them up to offer a smile. “Right this way.”

  Kayne followed her through the winding maze of black lacquer and red velvet until they arrived at a private section in the back of the room where the arrogant demon sat perched in his throne-like chair, looking down on the rest of the crowd like they had gathered solely for his amusement.

  “Ah, el Padre de los Muertos,” said Papa Midnight. “Welcome. What gives me this honor?”

  “Practicing your Spanish?” He knew damned well the bastard spoke every language, but the asshole liked to show it off. “I prefer the dead language version, naturally. But then again, I am an old soul.”

  “Mortuss ad Patrem, it is, Kayne.” His gruff laughter echoed off the stone walls as if it lived in them. “You’ve got a lot on your mind, old friend. It’s killing your sense of humor.”

  “Humor is not an emotion I’m known for, so stop wasting my time. You know what brings me here.” Papa Midnight, as a demon, had always had an uncanny way of knowing exactly what was on his mind.

  “Yes, kindred,” he said. Kayne’s eyes narrowed at the endearment. “And I’m afraid I cannot help you. I no longer have what you seek.”

  Kayne let out a long breath. He didn’t like the asshole comparing them as two of a kind. “Dammit.” The curse and the mood that came with it brought a wicked chuckle bubbling from Papa Midnight’s throat. He fed on misery, and Kayne’s very presence, the pent-up rage, made him a generator for demonic power.

  Kayne looked down at the red scarabs that were embroidered on Papa Midnight’s shoes. The man was dressed sharply in his Gucci suit, looking like a gangster giving fuck all about anyone else’s problems. “Where is it?”

  Papa Midnight lifted a shoulder and steepled his hands beneath his chin. “That? I have no idea. But I am curious as to why you want it back. It’s a very interesting situation, you and the Immortal Huntress. I haven’t seen dear Rebekah in quite some time.” He licked his lips.

  Rebekah had been a touchy subject with Kayne ever since the day he’d met her, and he especially didn’t like hearing her name come from Papa Midnight’s thin, vile lips. “So, are you going to tell me anything that is of use to me?”

  “You could catch it if you can find it. It is possible. You and I held it captive before, remember? That was one delicious little snatch.” Kayne had put the shadow inside a servant girl he’d caught stealing for transport to Styx. “She had some dark desires, that one. Probably better you took her off the streets.”

  Kayne had no doubt the shadow left with a new vessel. “Who did the shadow inhabit when you got rid of it?”

  “I released it back into the world,” he said, smiling like a serpent. “I thought it only fair. I myself know what being captive is like. Besides, just knowing that it’s out there, causing havoc was a great pleasure to me.”

  “You set it free?”

  “I was bored and sick of the fucking thing. It was quite a nuisance.” He pulled out his tie clip and began cleaning his pinky nail with it.

  Kayne had a feeling that was a hint that he was growing bored with him too, but he wasn’t leaving so soon. “I need to know everything you know about the stigmata.”

  “Stigmata?” He laughed. “It’s not a gift of the divine as some would have you believe. It’s a type of demonic energy. Only certain people were honored with such a gift.”

  “Humans wouldn’t see it that way,” said Kayne.

  “Since when do you give a damn about humans? Your Huntress? She’s not even a mere human anymore. Her power is more of a hybrid mix, but you already know about that, don’t you?”

  Kayne sank a little inside, knowing it was true, and that the fucker had pulled it out of his mind. “You know I am going to ask you how and why, so why not just tell me?”

  “I wish I knew. There are some things that even I don’t know.” With a wave of a finger, Papa Midnight called his servant over to offer a vein, and she did so without resistance or fear.

  What fun is that?

  Kayne waved her away. “I find that hard to believe,” he said, knowing the asshole was not telling him everything. He didn’t know why he expected anything more from him.

  Not wanting Kayne to lose faith in his worth, he sat up in his chair. “If this shadow is using stigmatic energy, which it must have picked up from someone it had inhabited at some point in time, it is going to be very hard to trap, but at least you know it’s possible.” He pulled a hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket and lit it. “There, I believe I’ve been helpful. Even if you can’t see it, you’ll figure it out.” He took a long drag, and the smoke rolled off his teeth as he grinned.

  Kayne wished Papa Midnight was mortal so he could choke the life from him. “Thanks for nothing.” As he vanished from the room, returning home to his castle, Kayne thought of what he’d learned.

  “Demonic energy,” he said as he reformed back home, pacing the room he’d reformed in. “The shadow came in contact with stigmatic energy, and since it’s demonic, it knows everything the current host and the former hosts knows.” Including how to get to Rebekah.

  The idea of something that powerful coming after her had him on edge. Getting rid of the thing had been easy, but now he had to figure out a way to trap it.

  Chapter 19

  By the time Rebekah and the others arrived at the rogue camp, it was already the afternoon, and she and the others were road weary. “We’re here,” she said to Canter, who had finally gotten to close his eyes after Jarreth had taken over the driving.

  He’d called Katie, and once he had his peace of mind that she was okay, he was able to sleep.

  Brock came out to greet them, bringing a few of his hunters with him. “Sorry for the welcome party, but we’re taking extra
precautions,” he said to Rebekah as she got out of the car and stretched her legs.

  “Totally understandable,” she said.

  Jarreth walked around to give his old man a hug, and his dad held him a little longer than usual. “It’s good to see you, Dad.”

  “Good to see you, son. You have no idea how good.”

  “I can imagine,” he said with a nod. He had seen what the stigmata could do.

  “Did you leave me a body to examine?” asked Rebekah, eager to get to business.

  Brock turned and met her eyes, thankful that he could lay his eyes on the Huntress again. “Yes, I have a few. I wanted to show you how consistent their wounds are. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “It goes against logic, doesn’t it?” She had thought the same thing when she’d seen what it had done to Merik and the others. But she was mainly asking to make sure that this wasn’t something different.

  Brock gazed at her with a look of longing. “It’s so good to see you again, Rebekah.” He wished things could be different, and while he knew that Rebekah had wanted to keep things professional, he would never stop craving her affection.

  Rebekah reached out for his hand, and when he took it, they fell into an embrace. Rebekah patted him on the back. “It’s good to see you too. I know this has been difficult, Brock, but I intend on helping however I can.”

  “Let me take you to them. I kept the body of the wolf too. I thought it was interesting what it did to the damned thing. You should see it too.” He turned and walked toward the recreation center, its door now stained with blood. And then he led her to the back and into the kitchen’s cooler where he had stored the specimens; two of his men and one bastard wolf.

  Rebekah and the others crowded into the cooler that was built to hold a lot of food and even more beer. Cases of it were stacked all around. She walked over and crouched down to examine the wolf. Its corpse was a mangled mess of bones and fur, like blood was all that was holding it together.