by Kade Cook
She looks up, sensing his familiar presence, and their eyes lock for a moment, sending chills through them both. She notices that his glare is not as loathing as it has been. Gabrian knows he is there to take her home. She gladly drags herself up from the ground and takes a step toward him.
The winter frost has wreaked havoc on the Earth, causing it to crack and split. Now with all of the rain they have received lately, any trace of stability the edge of the road had held has been devoured. With her weight, the edge breaks free from the road, and Gabrian loses her footing and slips backward—falling into the ravine. In seconds of falling, Gabrian’s head makes hard contact with a protruding boulder sticking out from the ledge, knocking her unconscious. She continues to fall further down, helpless to save herself.
Shane throws himself into the Shadows and drags the Veil around him. He emerges out of the Darkness just below Gabrian. Wrapping his arms around her like a shield, he catches her. Freeing his left hand, he grabs for the edge of the shadow beneath them, pulling its Magik quickly around them and vanish back into the Veil just before they hit the water.
Into the darkness of her room, Shane emerges with Gabrian wrapped securely within his arms—wet, dirty, and unconscious. He crosses the room and places her on the bed, pulling the quilted blankets over her to cover her small body. He ventures quickly to the bathroom and retrieves a wash cloth from the cabinet, dampening it with water before he heads back to sit on the bed beside Gabrian.
Looking down upon her with soft eyes, he gently tries to remove the hair covering her face, but her hair and cheeks are caked in mud. His strong agile fingers diligently dab at the dirt, struggling to erase its blemish from her skin. He stops for a moment, gazing down at her. She looks so helpless and fragile. He exhales deeply as his heart wrenches painfully in angst.
What have they become?
Hearing Rachael scurrying up the stairs and toward the darkened room, Shane quickly moves away from the bed and turns on the light. She rushes into the room and hurries past him to the bed where Gabrian lies, unmoving.
“What happened to her?” Rachael demands, twisting her head to unleash an icy glare at Shane, then returns to analyze any apparent damage—noticing the side of Gabrian’s head is dark with bruises and caked mud.
Shane steps forward, hovering over the two girls then takes a step back, brushing his fingers through his wet tangles of hair and huffs out a reply. “She slipped and fell, hitting her head on a rock where her parents’ car went over the cliff.”
“What!” Rachael exclaims, nearly breaking her neck to glare at him again, wanting to cross the room to throttle him for letting this happen to her.
“I got there just as she slipped,” he adds as he turns to leave.
Gabrian begins to stir. Her head aches; it feels as if there is a jackhammer thrashing around inside of it, trying to break through her skull. Hearing familiar voices, she keeps her eyes closed and lies as still as she can to listen.
Shane stops just as he reaches the doorway and looks back at Gabrian then raises his eyes to meet Rachael’s.
“You know, when I said I would protect her from herself, I did not actually think I would have to do it.” He looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief. “Stupid girl,” he grumbles under his breath as he walks out the door.
The words that fell from his lips are loud and clear in Gabrian’s ears, and the hatred that burns within them sear painfully through her already shattered heart.
Chapter Forty-One
Just After Dark
GABRIAN SIGHS, STARING up at the ceiling in her silent room. She listens to the constant thrum of her heartbeat, wondering if she could actually die from the pain she feels inside. Images of her parents flash through her mind. Their smiling faces haunt her dreams at night. She awakens hoping it is all just a nightmare, yearning to hear their voices in the hall. She tries to push the sadness away, but it never leaves.
Dragging herself out of bed, she idles over to the window and watches the light slowly fade from the sky as night approaches. The last remaining moments of the sun as it dips further below the horizon turn the sky the colour of blood. She closes her eyes, trying to capture the image, but when she opens them, the light is gone. The only thing that remains is darkness.
Something inside her stirs, and her thoughts rush to the memory of the bottle left on the counter by someone after the funeral. Quickly making her way to the kitchen, she searches the countertop for the bottle. Finding it, she quietly heads back up the stairs, careful not to disturb Rachael.
She turns the light on in her bathroom and notices the water glass sitting on the side of the sink. Gabrian opens the bottle and fills it almost to the top. She tips the glass, dumping the liquid down her throat, not caring what it is. She just wants it to wash through her and take her someplace else. She turns the knob on the shower to start the water. The room starts to fill with warm hazy mist. Gabrian grabs the bottle and fills the glass again, swallowing it down, feeling the warmth of the venom inside beginning to work as she de-robes and enters the shower.
She wipes the mirror with her towel and looks at the reflection. The girl she sees before her is a stranger—a ghost of the person she used to be. Her eyes that once held light and passion now seem to be filled with nothing but Darkness and anger. Gabrian welcomes its bitter delusion because right now that is the only thing that helps suffocate her misery.
She inhales deeply, picking up hints of Rachael’s essence from downstairs, and it becomes dangerously obvious she is suffering from starvation. “I need to get out of here.”
Riffling through the bag of clothes that Rachael had thrown together for her in Manhattan, she finds the black dress she wore at the funeral and holds it up to the light. She rips the hem at the bottom of the dress, shortening it about six inches, then tears off the sleeves, leaving it with only the main straps to hold it on. “It is a little morbid, but it is going to have to do for tonight.”
Not usually one for makeup, Gabrian pulls out her blackest mascara and defines the darkness in her long full eyelashes, making her ice-blue eyes unavoidable to look at. She paints her lips in crimson red, almost resembling the colour of the sunset earlier. A strange grin creeps across her painted lips—her wild look oddly invokes a wave of pleasure to wash through her. Gabrian idles at the mirror, studying her reflection—strangely enjoying her new look, and figures since she is technically a branch of the Vampire family tree, she might as well play along and look the part.
She pours herself another glass of the minty liquid she has been consuming, closes her eyes and tips it back—emptying it. Gabrian’s mind swims with images of her parents, the caution tape on the cliff, and the hatred in Shane’s icy eyes. Folding her arms securely around her torso, she howls as the agony slices through her soul. Her eyes open to the stranger staring back at her, and she slams the empty glass straight into the mirror, striking her down.
Feeling the room shift around her, Gabrian suddenly loses her balance and grabs for the sink, hoping it will stabilize her. Stronger than she realizes, she falters sideways and rips it partially out of the wall, sending all of the contents on it crashing to the floor.
In moments, the bathroom door flies open and Rachael rushes in, concerned for her friend. She looks at the sink, half-destroyed, and the mess of broken glass and makeup covering the floor. “Are you okay?” she gasps, looking at Gabrian in the center of it all who appears to have stepped out of some overpriced fashion magazine. “I heard a loud noise, and I got worried.”
“I am fine,” Gabrian huffs, looking up at her with an icy stare. Gathering her legs beneath her, she pushes herself up on her knees—straightening out her makeshift dress and brushes off the traces of unwanted makeup debris collected from her fall.
“I was just concerned...”
“I am fine, I said,” Gabrian snarls, cutting her off.
Gabrian’s heart begins to quicken, and her mouth starts to water as she becomes painfully aware of Rac
hael’s bright iridescent aura flooding the room. Gabrian slides her way closer to Rachael, inch by inch, drawn to her essence by instinct.
A wave of panic strikes Gabrian as she realizes what she is about to do. Gabrian jumps up and quickly pushes past Rachael, trying to get away from her before she does something she will regret. She has not taken any energy in weeks, and she can feel her energy lust burning wildly inside, causing tremors of pain to shoot through her body just from the closeness of Rachael’s light. Her lust for life is at war with her strength of will. “I am going out,” she yells to Rachael, running out the bedroom and down the stairs.
Rachael leaves the mess and hurries behind. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“NO!” she snaps. “I mean, no. I just need to get out of this house. I need to breathe.” Trying to pull on her black knee boots, she fumbles with the zipper. Her hands tremble as she strains to contain her thirst for Rachael’s light.
“But it would only take me a minute to get dressed.”
“I just need to be by myself,” she forces out calmly between gritted teeth. Her eyes focus in the direction of the door to hide the hunger within her widened pupils. Turning the latch to open the kitchen door, she glances back at Rachael for a moment and feels nervous about what she might do tonight but then decides she does not care.
Chapter Forty-Two
Share and Share Alike
GABRIAN SITS IN the darkness of her mother’s car, watching people stumble and dance about in the street in front of the bar. She grits her teeth at the thought that one of these mere powerless humans somehow managed to steal the life of her near immortal parents.
Her hands clench, forming into fists as she feels the anger grow inside from watching them enjoy their pathetic lives when all she can do is suffer. Between the pangs of starvation and the torture of grief, she truly cannot decide which hurts the most.
Gabrian never condoned violence, but tonight, her mind is clouded. All she wants to do is inflict pain and suffering on someone, to share the agony of sorrow and rage that has been building up inside of her, burning like fire against her flesh. Her teeth begin to grind as the temptation of stealing essence from those who flounder obliviously before her becomes magnetic. They taunt her hunger and her mouth salivates with yearning. The lust for energy wildly awakens, so close to the surface that she can almost taste it.
Flashes of images she has seen in Ethan’s thoughts, the ones of true Vampirism, flood her mind—creating intrigue within her. Gabrian starts to envision herself within the chaos of it and wonders what it would be like to devour a soul or two.
“I would not do that if I were you.”
Gabrian shrieks and jumps back in her seat, startled by the voice. She swings her arm out to defend herself but her hit does not find contact with the intruder. Instead, it slams hard into the back of the seat behind him, leaving her passenger unscathed.
Unable to defend herself physically, she tries to blast this thing with an energy flare from her hands, but she is so weak from hunger that it nearly knocks her out as a mild wave shoots forward, passing completely through him. Terror enters her heart, taking over where the pain had left off. Jolts of adrenaline sear through her heart and eat away at her muscles—taut and ready to fight though they remain idle and motionless, useless to protect her.
She looks at this apparition, or whatever it is, and studies his face.
“Do not be afraid,” he murmurs to her, giving her a kind smile. “I will not harm you.”
Squinting her eyes, she tries to figure out why this thing feels so familiar to her. Then it hits her. This thing has the same face as the young man who used to call to her in her sleep and ask her to meet him down by the garden gate where they would talk all night until the sun came up or until her parents would find her sitting in her night dress in the freezing cold.
“I know who you are.” She stops squinting and looks at his face more confidently.
A little apprehensive of her statement, Adrinn searches her mind but relaxes again.
“I remember you from when I was a child. I called you Ayden.”
His mouth curves upward in a grin of pleasure as he senses her comfort with him beginning to grow. Unsure how much the Realm has told her about Borrowers and Vampires, he keeps his true identity to himself—not wanting to lose faith with the girl prematurely.
“You are a hard girl to find, you know,” he teases. “I have been searching for you ever since you left me so many years ago.”
“You have been looking for me?” She contorts her face in confusion to his statement. “Why?”
“Because you and I are different,” he says, playing on the insecurities he has stumbled on within her subconscious. “And everyone needs a friend.”
For whatever reason, those last few words manage to strike a painful chord within her. Her body slumps back into the seat, no longer poised for danger. Too tired to defend herself, and now feeling the repercussions of depleting her last few ounces of strength trying to blast this thing into oblivion, she turns her head sideways against the seat to look at him. “What are you, anyway?”
“I am the result of what happens when love and hate become conflicted within one’s soul,” he announces with a tone resembling remorse—looking down at his hands with a furrowed brow—hiding the miniscule trace of compassion still left to roam within his soul.
She shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Hm, let me see. How can I explain this a little better?” He taps his index finger on the front of his bottom lip, looking straight ahead at the wayward drunks dancing in front of the bar. “I am like a genie trapped within a bottle, stuck for all eternity, awaiting the day when someone comes along and lets me out.”
“You mean to tell me that someone did this to you?” She slides her hand over and waves it through his fleshless form freely. Adrinn rolls his eyes at her, a bit annoyed with her taken liberties. Gabrian notices his discontent and stops, immediately dropping her arm but continues to stare through him.
“In a word, yes.” Not wanting to get into all the sordid details of his predicament and needing to engage her dislike for the rules of the Covenant, he decides to enlighten her with some truths. “With being a part of the Realm, staying within the rules of the Covenant is a must if you want to stay in their good graces, but if you actually want to live, rules are meant to be bent and sometimes necessarily broken.”
Gabrian remains passive, listening intently as Adrinn continues with his lesson.
“The way it works is like this—the Covenant only tells its faithful followers what they want them to know. They feed them only enough of the truth of what is going on to keep them loyal and threaten to destroy all those who would disturb its delicate balance of peace, instilling fear to keep them from straying.”
He rubs the end of his chin in thought. “How does the saying go again? Oh, yes. Those who cannot be contained must be destroyed.”
Gabrian’s eyes light up at this familiar bit of information.
“It is their motto so to speak. And, because the Elders sit within the great walls of the Covenant of Shadows, unscathed and unchallenged, they tuck their heads in the sand when it comes to understanding how the real world works—throwing fear into those who are shallow-minded enough to believe them.”
“And with beings like us, whom they do not truly understand, containing us is a bit of a challenge. To them, we are a danger which causes them to fear us and well...let us just say that beings like us sometimes do not exist very long in this dimension.”
Gabrian remembers all too well about what the Elders thought from her time inside the Covenant of Shadows. “So are you now a ghost? Did they kill you?”
“No, they did not kill me,” Adrinn admits, crossing his legs and folding his hands around the top of his knee, turning to gaze upon her over his vaporous shoulder with gilded eyes. “But they did banish me, and I am bound to the Darkness. I cannot die nor can I live either.”
“Like the Genie in the bottle thing you said before...” she chirps in, flicking her hand at him, facing the front and returning some of her focus on the crowd.
“Essentially.” Gathering all his niceties upon his face and forcing them into a peculiar grin, he turns his body toward his driver and leans on his arm now resting on the top of the seat, and gazes at her impishly. “And I am your little secret.”
“My secret?” she squawks, jerking her head around to question him.
“Yes. They do not know about me.” His hazel eyes gleam in the shadows as he reveals his secret to her, making the hairs on her flesh stand on end in warning, but she is too tired to care and listens intently as he continues to ramble on. “The Realm, the Covenant, all of them are oblivious to my existence.”
“Really?” She wrinkles her nose in a half-hearted inquiry, wondering if this childish delusion is for real or whether it is just another lie.
“If they knew that I existed they would surely do away with me for good, sealing me into the Darkness simply out of fear,” he assures her, willing his lip to waver as he delivers her his saddened outpouring of his possible demise if found out.
Gabrian’s mind spins with Adrinn’s story, having witnessed their cruelty, she accepts the validity of his tale, adding fuel to her growing hatred of the Covenant’s cruelty.
“Now if you want to become like me, go ahead and carry on with your plan to tear these oblivious humans to pieces in order to feed. But, I would not advise it. I assure you there is a better way, a more civilized way. Drawing attention and bringing the Covenant of Shadows down on yourself is probably not something you want to do.”