He held it. “She is upset because Quell isn’t well. May I please come in?”
Out of my peripheral vision, I could see Steven’s objections as he shook his head wildly. Steven didn’t need to object: there wasn’t any way I was letting Demetrius into my home. Because of my history, I didn’t have the same immunity afforded to others, but Josh’s ward kept out most of the undesirables.
“Quell is going to die,” he said.
I mouthed the words to drop the ward and opened the door wider for him to enter. Steven stiffened, watching Demetrius carefully. Two years ago, he had stabbed Steven with a sword and twisted it while it was lodged in his gut just to cause more pain. He was a sadist and now he was in my home.
He sighed and shook his head. “He will not feed. In fact, he will not do anything. I’ve sent ten people from the garden to his home and he sent them away untouched.”
Demetrius could care less about Quell, but since he was one of Michaela’s favorites, he had to care because her happiness seemed to be a priority to so many people. Her reverence was undeserved, and if it weren’t for my feelings for Quell, I would have rejoiced in anything that brought her misery.
“Next time don’t lead with anything about Michaela being unhappy, because I can assure you I don’t care,” I said.
His dark gaze was a smoldering charcoal abyss that could be easily entrancing. Even with the tinges of anger that spread across them, they were still oddly engrossing. It was hard not to be enthralled by the sadistic vampire with the appealing features. His hair was longer than it was the first time we met, but still a midnight-azure color. Thin supple lips did an exceptional job of making one forget the deadly weapons that hid behind him. A defined strong jawline and cheeks hardened his features when he frowned, which he was doing at the moment.
Was he actually upset that I didn’t hold the same sense of sorrow that his horrible partner was unhappy? How could I care that the queen of evil was unhappy? In fact, it brought me satisfaction that she was, and I just hated that it was because of Quell. But at least I knew why he cared. Their odd polyamorous lifestyle didn’t stop him from doing whatever it took to make her happy. Quell made her happy for some odd reason. It wasn’t anything born of virtue or depth. He was pretty, with the potential to be psychotic. She was drawn to that like an addict. Violence was their drug of choice.
“I’ve never dealt with anything like it. It’s like he is trying to starve himself into nonexistence.” He frowned. “I come to you because you have a way with him that I do not understand, but it is powerful. Can you help me?” he asked.
“I’ll try,” I said. I didn’t disclose to him that I might be the last person Quell wanted to see.
“Very well.” He reached out his hand. “We can go now.”
I wasn’t traveling with Demetrius. The process seemed too intimate. And I didn’t trust him to bring me back if I was successful with Quell. And I am pretty sure he didn’t care how I got home if I wasn’t.
“I will be there in an hour,” I said.
Demetrius had the same look Sebastian got when anyone told him no. Entitled and used to the world bending to his will, I could nearly taste his bitterness at my denial on my own palate. But he made a tremendous effort not to linger on his hurt feelings. “Very well, then I will see you in an hour.”
“You can’t get involved,” Steven said in a stiff voice as soon as the door closed.
“I have to.”
“What is your problem? This hold he has on you has to end.”
“It’s not a hold, I like him. We are—” I stopped, because I didn’t quite know how to describe what we were, “friends” was the only thing that seemed to be suitable. But we were far more. We were connected on a level that Steven or anyone else would never understand. I didn’t understand it. There was an odd responsibility I felt for him and I didn’t know how to shake it. He would have been content dying months ago from a stake through the heart, but I had forced him to drink from me. It was the first time he had fed from a human and now I was responsible for him because he existed because I couldn’t let him die, which I think he would have preferred.
He sighed, shaking his head in resolve. “You’re setting yourself up. That monster will be your fall.”
“How?” I said, and my irritation flared. “You keep calling them monsters, but how are they any different than us? If they are monsters, then we are monster-adjacent. We kill. If I’m not mistaken, that is how you got your position. You killed a man for his position.”
I should have slapped him; I think it would have stung a lot less. He winced. I softened. It wasn’t his fault. This was one of the distasteful aspects of pack life—fights for dominance. He had made a challenge, but it was the choice of the challenged whether it was to be to death or submission. Steven’s young age seemed to challenge his ego more than anything. Steven had won the position and his opponent died that day. I understood why it was necessary, but it was still a horrible way to live.
When I spoke again, it was absent the anger. “I am not saying that those of them that kill for the hell of it aren’t evil; but you can’t group them together, because they are different.” He was doing the same thing that Quell had done, grouping all humans into this group of horrible inhumane creatures that had devolved into something that he couldn’t bear to be around.
Steven listened, but the deep-seated frown was a true indicator that he wasn’t going to change his mind. The were-animals judged the vampires harshly for their arrogance, but there was a level of narcissism that was deeply entwined in the pack’s behavior. Both groups were blind to their own faults and cruelty. But I saw clearly despite the clouds of indifference that seemed to exist.
He exhaled, a deep breath. “You’ve changed the rules to absolve him of his wrongdoing. Don’t be foolish enough to think we aren’t aware of what he is capable of. We know about the five women he killed in a matter of three days. And it did not escape us that they all looked similar to you. He has an insatiable bloodlust; he is a monster in the making. He is worse than a newbie. At least they learn to tame their lust, but he went years without having to and now he is an older vampire, strong and uninhibited. Michaela, due to her infatuation with him, will never choose to control him, and Demetrius will overlook it to make Michaela happy. Isn’t it better to let it end this way, to save us all the hassle?” he said in a low wry voice.
Between Steven and me there was an indeterminable understanding. Never as deep or intrinsic as what Ethan and Josh shared, but it was distinctive and functional. I knew when he was trying to ease me into the iniquitous and dark side of pack life. The parts that I needed to be shielded from. “Don’t touch him,” I said firmly. “I mean it.”
“It will not be up to you, but Sebastian. If Demetrius will not control him, and if Michaela encourages it, then we will have no other choice but to intervene.”
For some odd reason Steven took on the role as executioner for the pack more often than most. The cherub face hid a baleful side. Teetering closer to the line between his animal and human sides, he could use force or diplomacy when necessary. But when it came to dealing with vampires, he preferred violence and extermination.
“Don’t. Touch. Him,” I repeated in an icy steel voice. “If you do anything to him, I will never forgive you and I will hate you forever.”
His eyes were limpid and indecipherable, solemn. “You will hate me for a while, dislike for a little longer, and then eventually you will forgive me and we will be as we are now,” he said softly. “Because no matter how you try to sugarcoat it, you know what he is. At some point you will grow tired of trying to fix him and realize we didn’t do it to betray you, but to help you.”
“I can fix this.”
“No, you’re not fixing things. You’re applying a bandage to a gaping wound that needs stitches. It’s temporary and ineffective,” he added.
“I need him.” The moment the words came out I wished I could shove them back in. Steven looked like I ha
d just kicked him in his man parts. The look of disgust and pity disfigured his face like a scar. I might as well have told him I had baby flesh soup for lunch.
His hands scrubbed over his face, but no words would come out. He just stared at me, the gold rolling across his green eyes in waves.
“It’s complicated and I wish I knew how to explain it,” I said.
He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. You go bandage your vampire and when it finally gets infected and is beyond repair, it will die on its own or we will euthanize it,” he said.
I would have killed Marcia if it weren’t for Quell’s intervention. Was it a necessary evil that needed to be done? Or just good old-fashioned, simplistic revenge? I had been angry because she hurt Ethan, even angrier that she had hurt me. I had the Aufero at the time, the thing I had come for, yet I had been willing to kill her. Was I in any position to judge anyone at this point?
“Can you fault the lion for slaughtering the gazelle for food because it develops a fondness for beauty? The lion needs to feed, and I acknowledged that it comes with consequences.”
I couldn’t believe I was saying this either, and Steven’s eyes widened at my response. I grabbed my canvas bag, shoved three stakes into it, then pulled out the knife that I kept in the bottom drawer and strapped it to my leg. “There came a point where I decided not to pass judgment, because if used too harshly, I doubt I would be able to like myself, let alone you,” I admitted.
I was lashing out and it was unfair. For the first time in a while I felt overwhelmed. I didn’t have the Aufero, I had a death curse on me, Quell was broken and I wasn’t sure I could make it right. It was a lot to deal with and I was holding myself together by a tendril. When it finally snapped, all hell would break loose.
Steven knew me too well not to take it personally. I had told him everything, maybe too much, and my burden he bore without hesitation. He was calmer. He stepped closer and kissed me on the forehead. “Do you want me to come with you?”
He hated vampires. One was responsible for killing his sister, the only person left after his parents were killed in a car accident. He nearly died killing the vampire that had murdered his sister. He did what he could to stay away from them.
“Of course, but I can’t ask you to,” I said. “I think things will go better if I go at this alone.”
Demetrius’ dark shadowed eyes looked surprised when I drove up. The smile was unexpected. He walked to the car and opened the door. He extended his hands to help me out, and then pressed my hands against his lips once I was in front of him.
“Thank you for coming.” His attention went to Quell’s ajar door. “Michaela is in there with him,” he said.
Oh great, I get to deal with the Northern Seethe Mistress, whose claim to fame is her cruelty. A few months before, she had punished Quell by locking him in a box, depriving him of sensory stimulation, and starving him. It was how they traditionally punished. It wasn’t how she punished him that bothered me; it was the reason. He was punished because he used me to feed to keep from dying during reversion after being staked. How ironic: now he was doing it to himself.
She looked deceptively demure and sweet, her long dark hair swept back into a ponytail. Her thin frame didn’t look so diminutive next to Quell, whose appearance was gaunt and febrile. How long had it been? Was it the last time he fed from me, which had been nearly three days ago?
Michaela’s hand was splayed against his cheek, and her thumb lightly ran along the apex of it. Her voice was always a gentle melody despite that most of her acts were a direct contrast. “They are here for you. If you can’t stop, it is okay. We will accept the loss.”
Three people stood in the corner; I assumed they were of the Seethe’s garden. I hoped they hadn’t heard how easily she would cast their lives aside as though they were nothing. I asked them to leave, but they didn’t move. I considered telling them that if Quell were to use them, they weren’t likely to survive and Michaela seemed okay with that. But they probably wouldn’t care. I was still trying to figure out what psychological dysfunction led a person to be in the Seethe’s garden. To feel that their highest honor was to serve vampires who didn’t value their lives at all. They were nothing but pleasure and food to them and odd variations of both.
Michaela finally turned to look at me, not pleased. The leer rolled in my direction and then refocused on Quell. “She is here for you. Do as you please. If you can’t stop with her, you will be forgiven and we will accept the consequences that may arise from it.”
Then she looked up and gave a small smile as though she hadn’t just offered me up like a turkey on Thanksgiving. We were in a good place of mutual hate and I was very comfortable with it.
She stood, beckoning for the garden to follow her, shifting one more scornful look in my direction. She might as well spat on me with the contempt that laced her gaze. It more than insulted me a thousand times over.
Once seated next to Quell, it had been nearly five minutes before he gave me a clipped glance and spoke. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“You seem to be in trouble. If it were me, you would do the same,” I said
“Are you confident in that assertion?” he asked, barely lifting his eyes to meet mine.
I nodded.
Michaela once said during one of her many nonsensical tirades that vampires often go through a period where they remember and long for a human life. Was this Quell’s bout with it, or had my cruel act of violence and devolution just cemented what he believed—people were horrible and void of empathy and compassion? He didn’t speak to me, but occasionally looked in my direction. Then he stared at me for a long time before looking away.
“If I hadn’t arrived, you would have killed her. Why?”
“She had something I needed,” I admitted. It was the first time I held his unwavering attention. I expected disgust, anger, maybe even revulsion; but instead it was appreciation, a limpid look of avid appreciation.
“The globe?”
I nodded.
“You had it in your possession, yet you continued,” he said as he looked away, staring out into space.
Why was I being chastised? He had actually killed five people in three days and he was judging me. It bothered me. Not the judgment, but the fact he was correct. I had the Aufero, Marcia was contained, and yet I continued to hurt her.
“I didn’t expect such things from you,” he admitted.
That ignited an anger in me that I wasn’t aware existed. “You killed five people out of bloodlust!”
It was quiet as he looked at me; the dark eyes were opposite of what was shown on his face: a wistful and morose look. “You are better than I am.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I need you to be better than I am. That is why I stopped you.” He shook his head slowly. “You should have seen your face, you looked so different—lethal. Of all those that exist here in the otherworld, for some reason you cling to an ideal based on the purity of humanity. I considered it a little foolish and part of me still does—but I am alive only because of the way you feel. I can feed without killing because of the way you are and—” he stopped and he worked for a while at a smile the barely curved his lips. “I like that about you. I don’t want you to ever become morally fatigued, because then, maybe I can be proven wrong and maybe there is more out there. And I am okay with being wrong.”
I’ve had the experience of being stabbed several times, and they all felt better than this. I slouched into the seat next to him. “Please don’t make me the beacon of humanity. Don’t judge others by what I do. I’m struggling and probably will screw up a lot. I can’t deal with that type of pressure,” I said softly.
I could feel him appraising me as I continued to fidget with my hands. “She hurt Ethan,” I said. “She tortured him.” But was it really an excuse for what I had done?
“You wanted to kill her because she hurt Ethan?”
I thought about it for a long time, and in the end, I didn’t have an
answer. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “The pack is all I have. They protect me and I want to do the same for them.”
“You have me,” he said.
I smiled. “I am glad that I do.” I had become accustomed to him being in my life. His little idiosyncrasies added a unique fabric to it. “But I need them as well.” It was the first time I had admitted it selflessly. Before, I needed them to protect me, but somehow it had either evolved or maybe even devolved into a need. I needed the pack.
He nodded. “I understand.” And he did. The ignoble relationship he had with Michaela forced understanding. They hadn’t created me, and my devotion to them wasn’t intrinsic but it was born from a need that they managed to fulfill.
He turned to face me in a quiet resolve that made me relax a little. There was a hint of that peculiar plant-eating vampire lurking behind his dour eyes. I held out my arm. He moved it aside, moved closer to me, and his cool lips pressed against my neck, where they remained for a long moment. I gasped when he finally drew blood, slow, careful pulls from the vein. Pulling back every few moments to make sure I was okay. When he finally stopped, he lingered close to my face. The soft kiss placed on my cheek was also unexpected. “Thank you for coming,” he said.
I stood up. He hadn’t taken a lot, and probably would need to do it again soon. “Will I see you tomorrow?” I asked.
“No.” His tone was devoid of any emotion. I couldn't figure out what was going on. “It is time that I start using the garden.”
The vampires had a few that they cared about, but some were disposable. How many would he kill before they stopped him or he would have to seek outside sources? I wanted to stay to question him, but he had checked out of the conversation and was focused on something past me.
Michaela stood alone by my car as I walked out of the house. She looked surprised to see me. I barely gave her the enjoyment of my time as I opened my car and starting to duck into it, stopping just before I could sit down. “It would be counterproductive to punish him when all he truly wants is death,” I said softly.
Midnight Falls (Sky Brooks Series Book 3) Page 27