Revelation

by Tanith Frost

  He motions for a human to come toward us—a young woman with golden curls piled on top of her head, spilling over bare shoulders exposed by her navy-blue gown. Her cheeks are flushed from the dance. She curtseys respectfully, but glances up at Lachlan from beneath her dark eyelashes with a mixture of affection and awe.

  “Meet me in my rooms,” he says.

  She bites her lower lip, bobs again, and hurries off.

  “Lively, isn’t she?” Lachlan turns to leave the room at a slower pace, and I follow.

  “Vibrant,” I agree. “The humans here seem quite contented. And surprisingly familiar with the vampires. I’m accustomed to more division.”

  “Keeping them here isn’t without its drawbacks. But they serve us, and our means of feeding is far more secure than what Maelstrom offers.” The look of relaxed pleasure disappears from his face. “In any case, our system works. They understand their place, and they practically worship us. In time, they seem to forget their desire to return to their own kind.”

  I wish I could ask about the gift Bethany apparently sent Viktor—the poor, tortured soul kept locked in a dark room so Viktor could feed on his terror as well as his blood. Surely the vampires here aren’t ignorant of the thrill of fear…but maybe Bethany didn’t intend for her gift to be used that way, after all.

  My thoughts are swimming, shimmering like the lights overhead. I need to remind myself of why I hate this place and these vampires, but I can’t. What did Daniel say? Ignoring the alternatives is a fine place to start. Ava has to accept what she’s told. If I want to believe my lies, I can’t argue with them.

  Blood. I need blood, and then I’ll feel clearer-headed.

  “Have you killed, Ava?”

  I nearly stumble. It’s not exactly as if he was reading my thoughts, but it’s too close for comfort.

  “I have.”

  Lachlan turns to me, eyebrows arched. “And that’s not why you were to be executed?”

  “Surprisingly, no. The vampire who forced me to do it didn’t survive, but I did. I haven’t killed since that night. Not while I was feeding, at least.”

  He frowns and folds his hands behind his back as we descend the spiral staircase toward his private rooms. “You say you were forced. Would you do it again willingly if permitted?”

  My mouth floods with saliva. Damn my body and every one of its betrayals.

  “I’ve come close,” I admit. “But I’ve always held back. There are laws. Stock have to be protected.”

  Lachlan scowls straight ahead. “Stock. They’re prey. Food. And their life is our survival.”

  “You treat them better than that, though.”

  He smiles grimly. “We do, indeed, but it’s all for our benefit. You’ll understand that soon enough if you’re the kind of vampire who belongs here. Your challenge will be peeling back the layers of false inhibition that Maelstrom has used to keep you in line—to keep you from discovering your full power. When we kill here, it’s without remorse or fear. Our prey are isolated from the rest of the human population, so there’s no violation of secrecy laws.”

  “But surely there are ethical considerations when—”

  Lachlan spins and places his hand against the wall, stopping me short. His black eyes burn, and fear courses through my body even though I don’t think his anger is directed at me. “Those considerations aren’t your concern anymore. You’re free here. You don’t have to kill. Most of us certainly don’t do it regularly. But a true vampire doesn’t deny that she feels the urge, and she doesn’t pretend she owes consideration to anything higher than her clan and her thirst. Do you understand?”

  “I—I think so. You choose to control yourself without denying your instincts.”

  “Very good.” He straightens his jacket, and we continue on to the bottom of the stairs, pausing only when we reach the door to his rooms. “I’m not unreasonable. I don’t expect you to accept our ways without question or hesitation after so many years of being taught differently. I do ask, however, that you enter this clan with your eyes and your mind open, that you leave your old ideas about us behind as you’ve left your old name. Can you do that?”

  I pause to give the question the consideration it deserves.

  Loyalty, I suppose, is a little like faith—easier when untested but far stronger when it’s been tempered by flames. If what I believed in Maelstrom is true, giving Tempest an honest chance will only make that more evident. I’ll get more answers by walking around with my eyes open than I would squeezing them shut and clinging to what I already believe.

  Besides, it’s what Ava should do.

  The smile I offer Lachlan comes easily. “I think I can. It may be hard to let go of old ways, but I’m willing to learn new ones, especially from a clan as surprising as yours.”

  “Is Tempest your clan, Ava?” he asks. There’s something unnervingly hungry in his voice, but I’m too starved to care. “Have you come home?”

  For now, and for Ava, I suppose that’s true. “Yes.”

  “Do you want to take a life into you again?”

  This one’s harder. Not because I have to lie but because the truth is so obvious when he phrases the question like that.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.” He rests his hand on the door’s iron handle and pushes it open. The young woman from upstairs is sitting on the leather sofa. She rises, twisting her hands nervously in front of her.

  I freeze in my tracks.

  Lachlan takes her by the hand. “Tonight’s the night, my dear. Are you ready for what comes next?”

  She nods eagerly, but when she glances at me, there’s hesitation in her eyes. “I thought we’d be alone for this, though.”

  He raises her hand to his lips as though to kiss it, but instead sinks his fangs into the flesh between her thumb and forefinger. Her lips part in a gasp that sounds more aroused than shocked. He licks the blood from her skin, his gaze locked on to hers. “You disappoint me, my dear. I thought you wished to serve me. To please me.”

  Her blue eyes widen. “I do. I do. I’m sorry, master.”

  Lachlan turns to me. “One of my pets. She’s had a good life these past few years. Haven’t you?”

  She nods, eyes shining. “So good.”

  “Are you going to die tonight?”

  “Yes,” she whispers. “For you, I am willing to discover what waits beyond.”

  She sounds nervous but excited. Like a high-school graduate about to leave home to spend a semester abroad. She’s confident that there’s something waiting for her in a way I never will be again. Just for a second, I hate her for it.

  Lachlan is still watching me. “Are you truly free, Ava? Or are you still bound by the fetters placed on you by a clan too weak to claim what’s owed to us as vampires?”

  I step closer. My hunger is undeniable. She’s going to die whether it’s under my fangs or his. She seems to want this, though I can’t know what’s led her to that. Does it matter? She’ll die happy. She’s already settling on the sofa with her head tilted back, her eyes closed, waiting for the beginning of an adventure I’ll never follow her on.

  Lachlan moves closer to me. This time, I don’t flinch when he places his hand against my back. I don’t need his urging to guide me toward her. My body’s doing that all on its own, drawn by the scent of her blood.

  God, it’s intoxicating. I’m clinging to reason, but just barely. Instinct is threatening to take over.

  I want to object. To negotiate with myself, talk myself out of it. But if I do, I’m finished. I’ll have proven myself beyond redemption, too mired in rules, too loyal to my old clan.

  And for nothing. She’s chosen her fate; I only have to choose mine. To prove myself simply by doing what I long to do every time I feed.

  By accepting every bit of what I am.

  I sit beside her, one leg tucked beneath me so I can turn to face her. Lachlan sits on the other side and bites into her forearm, releasing twin streams of blood. Her back arches with pleasu
re. He’s feeding, but slowly. He’s not going to finish this for me.

  I let go. Reason slips away. All I know is my hunger, her blood, and the life that flows into me the moment my fangs pierce the delicate skin of her neck. She’s strong. She may be his servant, but he’s clearly been holding back, saving her for this. She cries out as I bite deeper, tearing her flesh. Her pain sends a jolt of pure pleasure through me, spurring me on as I drain the life from her.

  Her breath catches, then rattles as she inhales again. She’s weakening. This is where I’ve been taught to stop.

  But not here. Not now. Not when I need this so badly. Not when I’m permitted to become what I was created to be—a monster. A murderer.

  As she releases her final breath and her fluttering heartbeat slows, as her life flows into me in an overpowering rush that carries me to the pinnacle of vampire experience, I realize Lachlan was right.

  In this moment, at least, I am home.

  10

  “You’re doing it again.”

  I ignore the cold dread that pools in my stomach at Bethany’s words. “What do you mean?”

  She shoots me a sly smile from the driver’s seat of the big sedan we took from the underground garage. “Hiding your void power. Loosen up.”

  I force my shoulders to relax. I thought she was talking about how my eyes have been glued to our surroundings since she let me take off the blindfold I’d been wearing since we left my room, how I’m desperately searching for something I recognize so I’ll know where we are. We’re off the highway now, surrounded by trees. The landscape reminds me of camping trips my family took when I was a kid, and I think I’ve placed us somewhere along the Niagara Escarpment. That doesn’t narrow it down much. It doesn’t need to, though. Ava’s not thinking of running.

  I’m just curious.

  It’s not difficult to release the void and let it flow through me. It wants to be free. It wants to play, to show off the strength it drew from last night’s incredible meal.

  I should have regrets over the drained, lifeless body I left behind when I went back to my own room, but I’m not even considering them. Daniel said the only way I can survive here is to believe my own lies until they become my truth. I’m not going to undermine my progress by second-guessing that decision.

  There’s also the fact that it’s hard to regret anything that left me feeling this good. It’s not like the first time I killed, when I was terrified of the consequences and desperate to forget that high so I could go back to enjoying lesser experiences. There’s nothing that can ruin this perfect consummation of everything I’m meant to be as a vampire.

  I’m not losing my focus on why I’m here. I’m not. But in a way, I’m starting to understand what Trixie meant when she talked about crushing her conscience and being better off for it. For Ava, it’s good advice.

  Trixie would have thrived here. Instead, she’s gone, executed for doing what she was created to do. Granted, she did it the wrong way, killing unwilling humans instead of one who offered. But maybe if she’d had a chance to do it right…

  My fist tightens against my leg. I’m getting used to the anger that comes when I think about these things, telling myself it’s good if it helps me maintain my story when I’m with Lachlan.

  “Better,” Bethany says. “I like how the void feels in you. You need to let it loose more often. Show everyone the new kid deserves respect. Even if they don’t feel it as we do, they react to it.”

  I turn to her, though I’m still keeping my eyes out for signs and landmarks. “How does it feel in me? I sometimes notice differences in it when it’s channeled through other vampires, but mine is just what I’m used to.”

  Bethany turns off the leaf-littered road and into a small parking lot. “It’s… I don’t know. Heavy? The void is beautiful and fascinating no matter who it’s flowing through, but in you it feels like some serious shit.” She turns the car off, climbs out, and pulls a backpack from the back seat. “Come on. Let’s see what you can do.”

  “Sounds good.” I stand and stretch. “I’m glad you brought me out with you. Not that your home isn’t lovely, but I did miss the fresh air.”

  She walks around the front of the car, patting the ominous bulge in the pocket of her coat. We’re both dressed comfortably tonight, ready for work in black pants, thick sweaters, and blessedly flat boots. She’s the only one who’s armed, though. “Don’t think it’s because we trust you. Your help here could be a means to an important end, but I will go on without you if I have to. Consider tonight a test on multiple levels.” Her eyes shine. “Though I suspect last night may have proved motivation to stick around?”

  “As though I needed it.” I shove my hands in my pockets and look away. “You talked to Lachlan?”

  “Of course. He seemed pleasantly surprised by your openness. And your honesty.”

  “Thanks for that advice.” We head down a trail leading deep into the woods but quickly leave it in favour of hiking over the uneven, rocky terrain. “It would have felt safer to lie to him. Not that I have anything to hide, but… I don’t know. I guess it’s a habit on some level. Not wanting to expose myself.”

  “Understandable.” Bethany lifts her face toward the stars and closes her eyes for a second as if she’s as glad to be out here as I am. “Lachlan’s gift allows him to root out traitors, dissenters, even doubters before they have a chance to spread their poison or act against him. It’s given him a great deal of security, and our clan its stability. It’s dangerous for those who don’t know about it, though, and he likes to keep it quiet.”

  “Does that mean he can use it on anyone? Even older, more powerful vampires?”

  Bethany gives me a thin smile. “I know I don’t dare try to deceive him.”

  Interesting. Genevieve has mentioned that she has an easier time picking up thoughts from younger and less powerful vampires and that humans are open books to her. I suspect the same is true of Miranda’s abilities, which she would otherwise surely have used to see what Viktor was up to long before he became a threat. On the surface, it would seem that reading minds would be a more useful skill than simply having an amazing bullshit detector, but so much depends on the limitations.

  “There.” Bethany’s steps slow. “Do you feel anything?”

  We stop and I refocus myself, releasing thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking anyway and letting pure awareness of our surroundings fill my mind—the frigid breeze on my cheeks, the weight of the atmosphere threatening an early snowstorm. The musty scent of leaves and moss. The near-silent movement of an owl’s wings, the quick squeak of its prey when it attacks.

  And an unfamiliar energy.

  “I feel it,” I whisper.

  Bethany is watching me eagerly. “How is it for you?”

  “It’s hard to tell—it’s so weak. It feels… turquoise. I know that’s not a feeling, but it is. And salty. Wild.”

  Bethany gives me a blank stare. “It feels salty?”

  I shrug. “That’s all my brain can do with it. My tongue is tingling. Is it different for you?”

  “Well, yes. I feel like I want to puke. And punch something.”

  I snort. “Sorry. That really sucks. Your description was just—”

  “I get it.” She’s holding back a smile, herself, and for a second, I forget that she’s the enemy. “Go ahead, laugh at my pain. And while you do, find the source.”

  This is our mission tonight. Bethany told me there was a rift event in the area not long ago. Like most rifts to other worlds, this one collapsed quickly. But when she came out to investigate, she realized something had slipped through. We’ve come back tonight to see what it was.

  I shiver. A different energy. Not magic as Taggryn knows it, but maybe something from yet another unfamiliar world.

  “How often does this happen?” I follow the turquoise-salty-wild energy in the direction it feels strongest, but it’s so vague. I’m tempted to let my fire rise, but Bethany will feel it if I cheat.

&nb
sp; Maybe just a little… an ember lights within me, still covered by the void. There—the source of the power, just ahead.

  I hurry forward, and Bethany follows.

  “You have to stop using your crutch, Ava.”

  I turn back. She’s wincing with pain, one hand pressed to her left temple.

  I imagine the fire sinking like a stone into the void’s depths. She lowers her hand and nods, but her skin looks ashen, and she leans on a tree for balance.

  “That’s what fire does to you?”

  “Yeah. One second.” She sits on a low boulder. “That came on like an icepick stabbing into my skull.”

  I step closer, but I’m not sure whether I’m supposed to offer comfort or an apology. “Did it feel like that the other night when Daniel and I were fighting?”

  She nods. “I’m good at ignoring the pain so no one will see my gift as a flaw, but there doesn’t seem much point hiding it from you. I doubt you’ll judge me for it.”

  “Hardly. I’m impressed you cover it up so well.”

  Bethany rises slowly and runs her fingers through her hair. In a moment, it’s like nothing happened. “I haven’t had much choice. Vampires will root out any failings they sense in you. I learned that the hard way before I understood my gift and its potential. I could have hidden away, kept quiet, felt sorry for myself. But that would have meant allowing others to limit me. I fought instead, turned my weakness into my greatest strength, and rose through this clan’s ranks. We wouldn’t have come as far as we have without my gift, yet still I have to hide the discomfort it brings.”

  I resist the habit of reminding myself that I don’t like her. I mean, I should like her if I’ve got my mask on.

  It’s probably fine that it feels so good to talk openly with someone about this gift.

  “I guess I understand why you’d rather just be rid of other powers altogether,” I say.