Dark Child of Forever

by S. K. Ryder

  Beside him, Garrett polished off the helping Jackson had cut up for him so he could eat it one-handed with a plastic fork. “I think I need more magic juice. This arm is taking too damn long to heal.”

  “Won’t that interfere with your plans?”

  “I’m just trying not to fall apart while we’re all still in this hot mess. The rest is for later.”

  Jackson shook his head. “I don’t suppose you’ve talked with Dad about this?”

  “Hell no.”

  He played with his drink can and considered the question that had weighed on him since he first heard about his uncle’s intentions. “What are you going to do if he asks me to put you down?”

  Garrett gave him a narrow look. “That’s not the question, now, is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The question really is what are you going to do when Warren asks you to put me down?”

  Son of a bitch. Leave it to Garrett to get right to the point. His actual father or the man who had acted as his father? Which would he choose? His hand clenched around the can until it crinkled.

  “Doesn’t matter, kid,” Garrett declared and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “You can’t even if you tried. I taught you everything you know about hunting. And I intend to be any hunter’s worst nightmare.”

  “I’m sure you—” Jackson looked around. The quiet figure in the black leathers was gone. “Where did he go?”

  “Probably puking his guts out in the woods.” Garrett put his napkin down and checked his watch. “Sunset.”

  “Shit. I wish I didn’t have to give him that shot today.”

  “They’d all be dead if you hadn’t. And my plans would have changed to picking out a plot at the cemetery. They have a chance now. As do I, I might add.”

  An agonized and decidedly inhuman scream issued from the motor home, bringing all activity to an abrupt halt. Someone turned off the music. “What was that?”

  “Oh God,” Jackson said. “Lyle.”

  He tore open the door and burst into the RV. Carly’s bag gaped open on teenage girl clothing awash in gray ash. Kneeling over it, face distorted in a mask of agony and ash-covered hands raised in fists, was the forever teenage boy.

  Seeing Jackson, Lyle’s eyes snapped to deep, black pits glowing with hellfire in a face gone skull thin. His guttural snarl was not even close to human. “What did she ever do to you?”

  The entire forest seemed to fall silent, every mortal thing alert for the predator that had its sights set on Jackson. Not a muscle in his body responded. He stood frozen to the spot, catapulted back in time to his brother, facing just such a creature. He could already see the blood-spattered aftermath, the torn limbs, and the smashed skull.

  Death was flying at him, and he couldn’t move.

  Then death was snatched out of the air and hurtled into the shadowy interior. Kostya’s enormous arms circled the enraged vampire from behind. Isao had his hand around the skinny throat. “This is not his doing.”

  “They were supposed to watch over us, and Carly is dead,” Lyle howled. “My sister—my family—is dead!”

  “I’m sorry,” Jackson said, clutching at both sides of the door because he didn’t quite trust his knocking knees. “I’m sorry.”

  “Move,” Dominic whispered behind him and Jackson jerked aside, letting him pass.

  The Lord of Night grabbed Lyle’s head in both hands and spoke low and fast in words as soothing as they were commanding. Lyle’s face filled out again, and his eyes lost their dark fire.

  “Adilla and Esteban will pay for what they have done to you and your sister, to all of us,” Dominic promised. “Tonight, they will pay.”

  Lyle gave a tiny nod and Dominic patted his cheek before releasing him. “Time to go.”

  The vampires stepped out of the camper. When he passed Jackson, Lyle ducked his head, sheepish, the mop of yellow hair falling over his eyes. “Sorry.”

  “I understand,” was all Jackson could manage. When everyone but Dominic was out, he slipped up the steps and found the Lord of Night slinging his swords across his back. “What’s the plan?”

  “Stay out of our way,” Dominic said and tied his hair back with swift movements.

  “I know that cave now. I know the setup. I have your blood.” Not to mention enough caffeine to fuel a small jet. “I’m an asset.”

  “You are mortal.”

  “What?”

  Dominic grabbed him by the shoulders. “Tonight, I cannot protect you. Stay here with Garrett and be ready to leave quickly.”

  “I want Esteban,” Jackson ground out. There. He’d said it. Admitted it to himself at last. This was as close as he would ever get to his brother’s killer, and he was not about to let this chance at retribution slip past.

  Dominic searched his face. “I know, chèr. I know. But not tonight. Tonight you would not survive.” His lips twitched. “I would miss you.”

  Before Jackson could respond, Dominic had exited the RV.

  The humans in the next camp had all stopped to gawk at the vampires. When the woman who had first invited them spotted Dominic, she called, “How was that burger, Nick?”

  Every other vampire eye swerved to Dominic who smiled graciously and placed a splayed hand on his chest. “The best I shall ever have, madame. Merci du fond mon coeur.”

  She pushed at the hair falling into her face and blushed. “Well, there’s more if you and your friends—” She frowned a little. Around her, the others resumed eating, talking, playing games. The speaker throbbed back to life. Looking at Jackson and Garrett, she said, “Would you like another burger?”

  Garrett waved his good arm. “Thanks, but no.”

  Jackson looked between the humans and Dominic whose amiable air had evaporated into something far darker. They couldn’t see him anymore, or any of the vampires. How the fuck are you doing this after being awake today?

  Dominic glanced at him but made no reply. An instant later he had blurred away, the others zipping after him.

  “Son of a bitch.” Jackson shook his head.

  “So he’s at full power tonight,” Garrett said. “We may have a chance of getting out of this yet.”

  Their neighbors paid no attention to them anymore. They had already forgotten Dominic and the inhuman spectacle of a grieving vampire. Over twenty humans. Not just random passersby, but fully aware of—and intently focused on—him. Compelled without a word in a matter of seconds. Jackson had never seen Dominic do anything on this scale even at his best. “Full power,” he repeated. “And then some.”

  Chapter 32

  Wait

  They did not approach the cavern as Dominic and Jackson had before, by the route amenable to humans. They came through the woods from the campground along the stream and then down a jagged cliff face beside a roaring waterfall. The holds were so small and random and slippery nothing but a supernatural entity would consider descending that way at night with neither light nor climbing gear. This was the path the colony used to reach the campground and its easy fresh blood.

  It was not a path Dominic would have dared travel if he were not in full possession of his faculties. Or perhaps not even then. Not before now.

  Unlike his previous attempts at day-walking, this day had not exhausted him. Far from it. The battle was done. He had triumphed over his fractured mind. The two sides of him had made their peace. Now they worked as one—and made him stronger than he could ever have imagined possible.

  When the day had drained from the sky, darkness crept over the forest and back into his soul. He no longer dreaded the hunger for blood and the lust for life sharpening his senses. Instead, he welcomed them even as he vomited his hamburger dinner into the creek, and the dark forces that defined him ignited into an inferno. Only the night before,
this level of power rushing through him would have terrified him, made him believe he would burn up or explode or lose his mind. No more. This is what he truly was. Master of the dark.

  Lord of Night.

  As the one most familiar with the cliff path, Isao took the lead. Dominic shadowed him, copying his movements. Douglas came behind him, followed by Lyle, Kostya, and Makoto. Massive sheets of water swept past them within an arm’s length.

  “Don’t you dare fall on me,” Lyle hissed when Kostya’s bulk crested the edge above him.

  “Shut up and pay attention,” the big blood-drinker grumbled.

  But it wasn’t Kostya who lost his grip in the slick mists. A tumbling rock hit Dominic in the shoulder an instant before Douglas flailed into space on his way to the boulders fifty feet below.

  Dominic reached out his hand and grabbed the man’s wrist, his own tentative hold sliding under the jerk of extra weight. For a moment Douglas hung, staring up at Dominic with a look of mute surprise. Far below, the rock hit the boulders, its clattering not quite masked by the pounding water. Dominic sent a wave of calm at Douglas and waited for him to find a grip on the wall again before releasing his wrist.

  Isao’s silent gratitude washed over Dominic. An uncontrolled drop into the rocks from this height could have been fatal even for an immortal.

  Unfortunately, the rock that had fallen could be fatal for them all. Whatever element of surprise they had left after their delay at the campground approached non-existent.

  Or perhaps it never existed at all.

  Esteban waited for them.

  Edged in the soft silver of a half-moon and with his arms crossed, he leaned on a small boulder at the cave’s entrance and looked almost bored when Dominic’s group materialized out of the woods. Esteban’s black slacks and shirt were pressed and spotless, and the city shoes on his feet had been placed with care on a clean rock. There was not a weapon in sight.

  Dominic let his vision expand, let his eyes glow with his power, and saw Esteban’s aura flare to life around him—and the five others standing at some distance behind him. Their scent rode the cold wind belching out of the cavern and spoke of something more than the youngling soldiers he expected.

  Elite guards, Isao provided helpfully. Not to be taken lightly.

  Despite his impatience, Dominic stopped himself reaching for his weapons and issued a silent command for the others to do likewise. He knew a trap when he smelled it. The shape of this one he couldn’t guess just yet, but he dared not underestimate the Spaniard. He would have to wait and stay vigilant and hope he would be fast enough to counter the ambush when it sprang.

  And spring it would, and soon. Esteban’s self-satisfied expression said as much. As did the subtle shifting of the others. Unlike their master, they were well armed and appeared to know what to do with their assortment of swords, pipes and chains.

  It was tempting to cast himself and his group in invisibility and walk past this crude welcome committee. But that would have left a dangerous foe in his back and no knowledge of what lay ahead.

  “I was beginning to think you had lost your way,” Esteban greeted. “It’s not that far from Calgary, after all.”

  The implication behind those words made Dominic go supernaturally still.

  “Oh yes. I know all about that little shell game you tried to pull with your planes. I have eyes and ears everywhere.” He dropped his voice and leaned forward. “All the time.”

  Dominic reached for Cassidy not even a hundred miles away. She and Francesca lived. But that was all he could determine at this distance. He swerved to Garrett and Jackson. Get away from here, he commanded. And confirm everyone’s safety. Now.

  He sensed Garrett’s instant acknowledgment up in the campground as he grabbed his phone. Jackson . . . Jackson he sensed somewhere else entirely. Merde. You stubborn bastard!

  Jackson fought him like a charging bull rhino, revenge blazing in his heart. The hunter took ruthless advantage of the gift of freedom Dominic had given him. Putain d’idiot! You will get yourself killed, he argued. It didn’t matter. Jackson would never hear his words, only feel his commands.

  His response, however, was very clear. Too fucking bad. I’m not going back.

  “This can’t be that much of a surprise to you, can it?” Esteban wondered when Dominic remained silent in his unwelcome distraction.

  Not yet ten minutes into this night and already surprises hammered him from every direction. Before he could begin to fear what else might conspire against him, he shoved Jackson out of his mind and poured calm into his voice. “Not at all. But you should know that you have one less spy tonight.”

  “Really. Well, that explains her silence then.” Esteban licked his lips thoughtfully as he regarded Lyle. The turmoil and recent memories raging in the youngster’s head would be a virtual news bulletin to his sire.

  Dominic kept his own mind as shuttered as his face, taking no chances that any of the serum Esteban had gotten into him still lingered.

  “I am here for Adilla.” He took several steps toward Esteban. The guards drifted closer. He ignored them. “I made him a promise that I intend to keep.”

  “And he’s expecting you. He will be so pleased that you have accepted his invitation to join us. As his equal.” Not even a trace of sneer in that statement.

  Dominic arched a brow. “I promised that he would submit to me or die.” Very succinctly he spoke the words Adilla had spat at Aubrey. The words Adilla would hear now through Esteban. The words that, true as they were, Dominic had never fully embraced.

  Until now.

  “I have no equal.”

  Unease fell on the shuffling guards and permeated the damp evening air together with the high-pitched squeaks and frantic flutters of bats.

  And the approaching clink of chains.

  Esteban stared at him as though transfixed by the unearthly amber glow in Dominic’s eyes.

  “But Adilla knows this. He knows I am what I claim to be,” Dominic said. “But you do not, do you, Esteban? You would have had your slaves finish me today. And, with me, all of us.”

  The Spaniard’s thin lips stretched into a humorless smile as he pushed away from the boulder. The others closed ranks behind him. “Foolish young one. Adilla’s wishes are my commands. He is my sire. Nothing I do ever happens without his consent.” He leveled a contemptuous look at Isao’s group. “Those who shun his favor are not welcome here.”

  Isao scoffed. “And are fit only to be discarded in the sun? Yes, that is how those who have Adilla’s favor usually end up. You best take care, Esteban. Your time is coming.”

  “Ah, my dear brother, Isao. Still the cynic after all these centuries. How I have missed you not.”

  “You’re my fucking sire, you motherfucker.” Lyle’s hoarse shout almost made Dominic wince in sympathy. The boy bristled with pain and rage.

  “Young one. Not now,” Kostya warned and reached for the boy’s arm.

  Lyle tried to twist away, shaking his head. “You were Carly’s sire! Do you even care that she’s dead?”

  Esteban unfolded his arms and pocketed his hands as he moved forward just enough to force Dominic to turn away from his guards who remained where they were. Isao and Makoto watched them, their hands moving to the hilts of their weapons.

  “Oh, I think everyone here will agree that she and you are a waste of perfectly good blood. You were weak as mortals, and now you are a useless immortal.”

  “Just because we didn’t inherit your goddamn special fucking ‘gift’, you ca—”

  Dominic threw up his hand in a stop gesture. Enough.

  Lyle snapped his mouth shut.

  That rattle of chains from the cave grew louder.

  “Well. There may be hope for him yet,” Esteban mocked. “You can make his c
ase to Adilla. He might reconsider. As I’m sure you will reconsider his offer once you understand my lord’s generous terms.”

  “His terms are of no concern to me beyond his willingness to submit.” Wary impatience nipped at the back of Dominic’s brain.

  “Just the same, he has made you a gift.”

  Merde! He could even smell Jackson now. Peeling off a tiny part of his attention, Dominic spun a small illusion. “A gift?”

  The feral expression on Esteban’s face made the hairs on Dominic’s neck rise in alarm. Moving like a rattlesnake coiling to strike, he turned back to the cavern. “A token of his esteem for you.”

  The wall of guards stepped aside. Two more blood-drinker auras glowed behind them. One of these kept a firm hold on the other who shuffled along in shackles and chains that jangled over the stone floor.

  The smell of purest snow wafted off . . . her.

  A sense of unreality crawled over Dominic’s body. “Non.”

  It was too soon. It could not be. He had to force himself to look at her, this newly made youngling, to see the long blue skirt she wore, and the stained pinstripe blouse. The sensible shoes were gone, her white feet filthy and bony. Her black hair hung in a tangled mass, the widow’s peak a small dagger in the skeletal mask of her face. And the eyes . . . windows into a void that saw nothing, recognized nothing, craved nothing.

  Nothing but blood.

  The wind rose in a mighty gust and moaned through the cavern. Moaned as Dominic’s soul moaned. He was too late.

  Genevie.