Fated Origins: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Helena Hawthorn Series Book 4)

by May Freighter

  “First, take a shower. I’ll ask Freda to leave some of her clothes for you to change into. When you’re done, come eat lunch with us. I’ll introduce you to the group.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I know you want me to tell you what direction to take in life, and I can’t do that. Just take some time off and think things through. Until then, you are welcome to stay here.”

  She pursed her lips, contemplating her options. Returning to the US wasn’t possible. Lilia would find a way to climb back into the driver’s seat and bring her back to where her son was. She couldn’t return to Ireland because she had nothing left there. And, without Lucious by her side, she had little will to fight the fate any longer.

  “Stop thinking so hard. It will give you an ulcer,” Ben joked, getting off the bed. “Shower, food, and only after that can you start making decisions about any serious matters.”

  “Thank you, Ben, for everything.”

  He patted her on the head and gave her a lopsided smile. “We win some and we lose some. Without loss, we can’t learn to value and respect those around us.”

  “I’d rather not lose anyone else.”

  “You may not have a choice.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “The bathroom is next to your room. There should be some fresh towels in there.”

  “Thanks.”

  He left her alone, and Helena stared at her hands. Deep down, she feared to discover that Lilia was right and Arthemis should have remained locked up in that gate. She could sift through Lilia’s memories for clues, but if she confirmed her woes, it would make her feel even worse. Shaking her head, she got out of bed and took a shower. Not like she had anything else she could do on her own.

  Helena found spare clothes on her bed and changed into a pair of black jeans and a grey sweater. She made her way downstairs where the chatter was coming from. Once she arrived on the last step, the talking stopped, and she found eyes of five strangers on her.

  An awkward smile tugged on her lips. “Hello?”

  The youngest member of the group, Otto, smiled at her. He was the least fit of them all, yet his eyes were the only ones that didn’t reflect years of training and killing. His warm, chocolate gaze managed to soothe her building unease.

  “Ben is in the kitchen. How are you feeling…er…” Otto trailed off.

  “Helena.” She forced another smile and descended the last step. “I’m fine and thank you for the tissues.”

  Before he could reply, a man with short black hair and a trimmed beard stood up from the table that was covered in weapons and ammunition instead of food. His arms and neck were marred by scars of what appeared to be old vampire bite marks. “We saw what you did at the gate. What are you?”

  Helena swallowed nervously. “I’m…”

  “She’s with me,” Ben replied, entering the room with his hands in his pockets. “Do you have a problem with that, Wagner?”

  “She could be a threat to us. She opened that gate!” Wagner retorted.

  Ben stopped next to her. “She is a good friend of mine. Without her, I wouldn’t be here.”

  Freda’s upper lip curled in disgust as she flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Is she a witch?”

  “She has powers of one, but she’s untrained,” Ben explained.

  From where Helena stood, this scene reminded her of the first time she came in contact with the undead. Everyone treated her as if she wasn’t there while they talked about her. She couldn’t allow for such treatment to go on. Not if she wanted to secure a shred of respect from these hunters.

  She squared her shoulders. “I am Helena Hawthorn. Inside of me is an ancient fate that is trying to stop whatever came through that gate at Stonehenge. Yes, I have powers. No, I don’t know how to use them. And, I am not a threat to any of you unless you attack first.”

  An athletically-built man with sky-blue eyes and a buzz-cut who sat between Wagner and Freda burst out laughing. He had to be around Freda’s age—mid-thirties—based on his tanned features and stress lines on his face. “She’s adorable.”

  “Try to keep your distance, Burnell,” Ben warned him. “She is someone we need if we want to put that thing back in its box.”

  Freda scowled at Ben. “And what exactly got through that gate? You forgot to clue us all in while you were busy hanging out with a witch and those Class 6 vampires.”

  Ben licked his lips. Out of the corner of Helena’s eye, she noted that the pulse on his neck had spiked. “It’s not a what but a who. I believe Arthemis has been awakened—the original vampire.”

  The room fell silent. Every hunter stared at Ben like he had sprouted an extra limb.

  An older gentleman in his late fifties came into the room with a grumble. He dismissed everyone’s frozen state and rubbed his tired, bloodshot eyes. “I got rid of that damned car for you, Ben. Took as many backroads as I could. But, why was I the one forced into doing it?” he demanded, directing the question at Ben. “Freda could have done it. She sat on her hands all day.”

  Helena felt the stranger’s hostile grey eyes landing on her. He pressed his lips together and combed his fingers through his thinning, short, grey hair. “Who is the girl? A new hunter?”

  Freda erupted from her seat. “A fate who opened a gate and unleashed some kind of monstrosity on this world!”

  “Freda, that’s enough,” Ben said, motioning for her to sit down.

  Helena stumbled backwards. Her heels hit the stairs, and she nearly lost her balance. “I did it to protect my friends.”

  “You certainly did more than protect, little witch,” Burnell piped in, chuckling.

  “Don’t listen to them,” Ben told her.

  Helena shook her head. She couldn’t be around them any longer. Her whole life had changed when she found out about Lilia and her plans. All she wanted was to be with the man she loved, but, instead, she wound up tangled in a web of terror and death.

  When will these nightmares end?

  She aimed for the door when Wagner caught her by the arm. “You’re not leaving. We need to deal with you.”

  “Deal with me?”

  “Let her go, Wagner. She saved my life, twice,” Ben added.

  “I don’t trust witches,” Freda hissed. “They should rot in Hell for all I care. We should kill her and inform Orion’s followers of this development. We can’t take on so many Class 6 vampires with our laughable numbers.”

  The oldest man in the room nodded. “Ben, Freda may have a point. It would be for the best to get rid of this girl while we can.”

  Helena noted Freda and Burnell reaching for the weapons on the table. Her heart raced in her chest as she tried to tear herself out of Wagner’s iron grip.

  “She doesn’t seem like a bad person, though,” Otto said, breaking the building tension in the room. “I like her.”

  Wagner’s fingers dug into her skin painfully. “Little brother, you have no idea what you’re saying. She could have used her magic on you.”

  Otto lifted his hand and rolled back the sleeve of his red jumper. On his wrist, he had a leather bracelet with different miniature bones woven into it. “This thing would have reacted if she did.”

  Grinding his teeth, Wagner released her.

  Helena stumbled away from him, pressing her back to the nearest wall for support.

  Without delay, Ben was standing in front of her like a shield. He had his gun drawn and pointing downwards. He spoke in a clear and commanding voice to the group. “Anyone who wants to harm her, I will put down myself. Freda, I understand your concerns. You must know that Helena is not like the siren who has killed your daughter.” He met Wagner’s stern gaze. “Like I said before, she saved my life. I owe her a debt. And, since I am a leader of this merry band, I suggest you listen. She won’t hurt anyone. You have my word.”

  The others did not relax, but they did slowly nod.

  Ben took Helena’s hand. Leading her to a seat at the table, he waited for her to sit before j
oining her. He rested his elbows on the table, indicating for everyone else to take their seats.

  Once they did as he instructed, he said, “Good. Now that we have calmed down a little, let’s come up with a plan and have some lunch.”

  “A plan to do what?” the older gentleman asked. “What monstrosity was Freda going on about?”

  “The original vampire, Xiomar. This witch has released him,” Wagner offered.

  Xiomar let out a long whistle. “I’ve researched him before, but there is little to go on. Arthemis is a well-hidden secret that vampires refused to talk about during our interrogations.”

  Helena’s body tensed at the mention of torture. She hugged her sides, trying to quell her body’s tremors. “You’ve tortured vampires for information?”

  “They torture our men all the time. Why should be courteous towards them?” Wagner demanded.

  “They’re not all bad!” Helena protested.

  Ben gave her a warning pinch under the table. Facing the others, he said, “We may have different opinions on the undead, but we must band together on this. We can’t allow Arthemis to take control of the vampires.”

  “I see you have been reading up on history,” Xiomar said.

  “You would know more about it. So, please, share what you know with the group,” Ben told him.

  The older man seemed pleased to be handed the spotlight. He sat up rod-straight and his expression grew serious. “In our records and that of many other clans, the first vampire was able to control his kin with a single command. Unable to defy their master, they created more of their kind, leaving hundreds of bodies behind.”

  Helena’s blood drained from her face. Lilia was right to lock him away in that gate. Was it a mistake to save Ben? Should I have sacrificed my life and that of my friends to keep such a monster at bay? Her eyes were drawn to her knotted fingers on her lap. The Royals knew where Arthemis’ resting place was. It wouldn’t take long before they figured out how to unlock the tomb, or so she assumed. If people started dying by his hand, it would be her fault. Every death, every broken family, every weeping child would be weighing down on her conscience.

  “To this day, no one knows how to kill him,” Xiomar added. “The records from that period were long since lost and forgotten. If we could get in touch with the Tarantula clan from Ireland or Orion’s—”

  “No!” Ben interrupted Xiomar. “They shouldn’t be involved in this.”

  “Then what do we do?” Freda asked.

  “What we do best,” Ben said. “We find a way to kill him.”

  12

  HISTORY LESSONS

  HELENA

  S ince the plan to defeat Arthemis was in the making, Helena decided to go to her room to be away from the hunters. Ben may have calmed them down enough not to shoot her on sight, but he hadn’t managed to remove their unease around her. She couldn’t blame them. They had lost people and couldn’t place their trust in someone who had walked into their lives after opening a portal to another realm.

  Sitting on the bed, she looked around the room. It reminded her a little of the room Andreaz had put her in when he took her from Vincent’s castle. There was little furniture and the room had white walls and ceiling. It was a little sterile for her liking.

  Her hand rubbed the place where her soul-string was. It used to be connected to Lucious. Not knowing what had happened to him after she and Ben left Stonehenge was eating her up. At the time when she destroyed their link, she had hoped that it would bring them peace. But she had never felt more uneasy. Not knowing what he thought or how he felt left a hole in her soul that she couldn’t fill with everyday chores.

  Without her knowing it, she began to sob again. She buried her face in her hands and hunched in on herself. The thought of Lucious being dead kept tormenting her to the point where she wished that the past year was a terrible nightmare. If only she could awaken from it or turn back time.

  A knock on the door got her attention. She wiped the tears away and hurried to open it. On the other side, Otto was standing with a tray full of food. He looked young, probably eighteen or nineteen years old. His honest eyes reassured her that he wasn’t going to be hostile towards her.

  “Hi,” Otto said, lifting the tray up a bit. “I brought you something to eat. Ben was worried about you since you didn’t stay with us long enough to eat lunch.”

  She opened the door wider and moved out of his way. “Thank you. You can leave it on the bed.”

  He walked in, placing the tray on the bed, and awkwardly stuffed his hands into his back pockets. “If you want, we can talk. I would like to get to know you better. It’s not every day Ben brings someone new into the group.”

  Helena wasn’t feeling well enough to have a conversation, but sending him away would be rude after he brought her food. She closed the door and took a seat on the bed. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  “Ben didn’t tell us much about you other than you being a witch and a fate. Let’s start with, where are you from?”

  She stared at him in disbelief. Of all the things he could have asked about magic, angels, demons, or vampires, he decided to go for the most common question between two strangers. A small smile appeared on her lips. “I used to live in Dublin before my parents and I moved to Florida. Are you from Germany like Ben?”

  “No. My brother and I are from Austria. Our parents left on holiday to tour Berlin one day and never came back. My brother at the time was in his second year of his Medicine degree, and I was in third grade.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Helena said softly.

  “My brother changed after he found out what happened to them. The police ruled it as an animal attack, but Wagner kept digging. He realised that he was dealing with the local pack of werewolves and joined the Black Mamba Clan to get his revenge.”

  Helena rubbed her hands together. “I don’t understand, why are you telling me this?”

  Otto bit his lower lip. “Because I know that expression well. You have recently lost someone important to you, and you must be hurting. I know my brother and the others didn’t make you feel welcome. They are not bad people. Freda and her husband, Reynard, found out their six-year-old daughter was killed by a siren for a blood magic ritual. My brother lost his first partner and our parents to the werewolves.”

  “I heard from Ben that you are either bred or pushed into the life of a hunter. Both options seem terrible.”

  “Not to everyone. Burnell took up arms against the monsters because after he served in the military, he couldn’t go back to normal. And Xiomar was a researcher who was never taken seriously. His family had spent four generations studying different creatures that roamed our world. He eventually gave in and became the clan’s head researcher.”

  Helena picked up a sandwich and took a bite out of it. It was great having food in her mouth again. Her stomach rumbled happily once the food reached it. “And where do you fit in? You don’t strike me as someone who kills supernatural creatures.”

  Otto waved his hands in front of him. “No, no! I wouldn’t. My brother would kill me if I followed in his footsteps. He wants me to go to college and study Medicine, but I would prefer to go into Computer Science. I’m more interested in motherboards and graphics cards than body parts and guts.”

  “Why don’t you tell him that?” She took a sip of the tea that was on the tray. The soothing peppermint reminded her of Perri and her obsession with cooking.

  “I don’t want to disappoint him. He is my big brother, and if getting a medical degree will make him happy, I will do it.”

  “That’s very noble of you.” Helena gave a smile and added, “But I think he would be happier if you were honest with him. He is the only family you have left. I think he would want to know how you feel.”

  Otto abruptly stood and rubbed his hands together. “I should go and get some studying done. It was nice talking to you.”

  A pang of guilt stabbed Helena in her heart. She had made him feel uncomfo
rtable by bringing up a touchy subject. “Same. Thank you for hanging around.”

  She watched him leave the room and resumed eating alone. The hunters in this clan reminded her of Ben before he got to know the other supernatural beings. Much like humans, they weren’t all bad people. Sure, some of them were eager to hurt others or had psychological problems that turned them into savage beasts that killed for pleasure. But living an eternal life could do that to anyone. People were not meant to live forever. The cycle of life and death had been around since the beginning of time. It was natural. So coming across ancient vampires who had lost their sense of self or their purpose in life made sense to her.

  Once she was done eating, she took the tray with her and left the room in search of Xiomar. He seemed interested in fates, and she had to find out if he knew anything else about Arthemis and his reign.

  In the kitchen downstairs, she slid the tray onto the kitchen counter. Looking around, she found Freda and a man Helena guessed was her husband, Reynard, hugging at one of the tables. Since it wouldn’t be a good idea to strike up a conversation with the woman who wanted Helena to burn at the stake, she scanned the other areas for Xiomar. He wasn’t anywhere in sight, so she returned upstairs. One after the other, she knocked on the bedroom doors. There were five bedrooms and a large bathroom on the first floor. Since she already knew where her room was, she was left with fewer doors to investigate.

  At the first door, there was no response. She went ahead to the next one on her right. Otto opened the door with a pencil sticking out from behind his ear.

  “Is there anything you need?” he asked.

  “There is actually. Could you tell me where Xiomar is staying?”

  “Oh, his room is around the corner and on your left. Don’t be freaked out by a number of books he has and you may need a shovel to get to him.”

  Helena laughed. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “No problem.” He left the door open and returned to his desk where he resumed reading his book and taking notes.