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Decimate

Page 21

by D. Fischer


  The dwarves are knocked over, the effect of sleep dust too great, and they slump against the forest floor. Orange berries tumble from their grips, and their long-lashed eyelids flutter closed.

  I look to where Sureen and Sandy stood as my vision morphs to bleeding trees. The spirits of those I’ve killed wade through them, aimlessly weaving between the trunks. She is gone, and with her, she took only Sandy.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ELIZA PLAATS

  EARTH REALM

  The gravel driveway jostles the entire car as we travel along it. Aiden’s long fingers are wrapped tightly around the leather steering wheel. Hunching his shoulders, he bends his head to better observe the territory through the front windshield.

  All of the lights are on in the mansion’s Alpha quarters. Another SUV is parked haphazardly in front of the house, half on the grass and half on the gravel, and the door hangs open like it always is. It’s as though the door cages them and leaving it open helps ease the ache of animal instincts. They act just like real wolves.

  Whether they know it or not, they energetically seek affection, touch, and communication with the other members of the pack. It’s neat to watch. Admirable, almost, because this sense of family is rare. I’ve never known it, and I don’t know many who truly have. Not to this extent.

  I cock my head to the side as we pass the parked SUV and head toward the garage. Everything feels . . . off. But after the encounter with the pyren and everything we’ve learned, my thoughts haven’t had a moment’s rest. And with all she said, one thing stings the most. Aiden’s been keeping things from me. Things that corrupt a soul. Murderous, Ferox had said. That very word sits on my tongue like a bitter taste.

  “Something’s wrong,” Aiden mumbles, hunching to peer out the windshield.

  “Mmm,” I murmur. I’m not ready to talk about it. Everything is wrong. I glance at him from the corner of my eye and frown as he studies the territory, searching, scenting, his muscles rippled with anxiety. “What do you mean?”

  “I could taste their fear before we pulled into the driveway. Something is wrong.” He turns the last curve and parks in front of the massive detached garage. Instead of pulling in, he slides the car into park and turns the key, effectively shutting off the engine.

  Crickets chirp in the early night while Aiden stares straight ahead, rigid.

  I fold my hands together and hold tightly, rubbing and tugging at the fingers. “It’s probably just the pack getting restless. They went hunting for the vampires. They might have run across a few or maybe none at all.”

  “If you believed that, you wouldn’t be as reluctant to leave this car as I am,” he says, shifting to me.

  He’s right. I don’t want to leave this car. I’m terrified to leave this car. Something just doesn’t feel right, like a tang in the air. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say his emotional radar didn’t bother me. Sometimes, it feels a bit rude, and a small part of me hopes he feels that emotion wafting from me as well.

  Ever since the day I died, it’s been one battle after another. A battle for love. A battle for my soul. A battle for life. A battle just to breathe without crumbling under the weight of the realms and those who rule them. And here I am again, fighting for the one I love while facing more danger, more tragedy, both mental and physical. I’m constantly running or continually fighting to survive. And even though Fate has some sort of majestic plan to save us from being wiped from the realms, from complete decimation, it doesn’t make me feel safe. Not in the slightest.

  Because nowhere is safe, and none are protected. Not from this. Not from who we’ve become.

  “Why don’t you want to leave the car?” I ask, peeking at him from the corner of my eye.

  He gives me a sidelong glance, sniffs, and then awkwardly shifts in his seat.

  “You’re afraid you’ll feed from them,” I breathe as it dawns on me. Of course, he would feel that way. With all of that wrongness in the air, with the tingling lighting my nerves, begging me to flee, there’s bound to be someone else’s fear besides my own floating outside this car. I’d bet, too, that it’s difficult for him to not feed from my own. After what had happened the last time he lost control, it’s no wonder he’s hesitant. I see him struggle with the memory of bringing me to my knees every time he sneaks a glance my direction.

  Aiden looks out the driver’s window, and the light from the garage catches the sparkles on the edge of his jaw. The reflection casts white hues throughout the shadowed interior.

  “I already am,” he rumbles.

  The leather groans as I squeeze the side of my seat. “Can you stop it?”

  “Sometimes,” he says. “If it’s not too strong.”

  “Do -,” I begin then run a hand through my hair. It’s damp from the misty water, and I tug on the ends to rid my thoughts of what the pyren hinted at. “Is it harmful to them?”

  He doesn’t answer me but, instead, grinds his teeth. “Eliza,” he begins and then swivels his head slowly back to me, studying my knees.

  “What?” I ask and then swallow thickly. This is it. By the look in his eye, I can tell he’s going to tell me something I no longer want to hear. By that one look . . . it says everything. His dark, deep secret, swirls in the lava flowing eyes. Knowing, I realize, can do more harm than good. Perhaps I’m better left in the dark. Perhaps this is something he should -

  “I’ve killed before.” He’s so quiet I almost miss the words.

  I stare at him, unblinking. Seconds tick by. Minutes? “When you’ve fed?” The slight dip of his chin is all the answer I need. “Who? Why?”

  “Someone I don’t know,” he whispers, finally matching my gaze. “I was starving, Eliza.”

  He recites the situation he found himself in after he left me on the Guardian Realm. The feeding, the torture, Corbin being his father. With each admission, with each sentence, my heart breaks a little more. Some of this I already knew, but that expression on his face nearly shatters me. Saliva pools in my mouth, and I swallow with difficulty. I don’t know what to say. What to think. How to feel. The only thing I do know is I shouldn’t expect less. He’s a demon. Demons feed on fear, and though most don’t kill their prey, Aiden isn’t like the others. How do I handle this?

  “Eliza,” he says, reaching forward and rubbing my hand clasped around a pinch of leather. When I say nothing, too lost in all of his words swirling in my head, he squeezes my fingers. “I’ve killed, Eliza. I’ll most likely kill again. I’ll understand if this is too much for you, but I’ve come to terms with what I am. At least a little. I have to if I want any resemblance of peace.”

  Wrapping my aching fingers around his, I watch our joined hands, running my thumb over his rocky knuckle. It’s an instinctive move, to seek comfort even if, at this very moment, he frightens me a little. I need time to think, and with the pressing weight of whatever waits for us outside this car, right now isn’t the time to ponder all that is Aiden at the moment.

  “I don’t like it, Aiden, but I also can’t change what you are. Perhaps, over time, you can learn to control it better. I love you, but my question is, why are you so scared to love me back?”

  I hadn’t realized it had even been a question I’d been wondering about. It popped out of my mouth without me truly thinking it over. He had been absent, keeping his distance, and though I know he did so to keep me safe from him, an insecure part of me wondered if it was me he was running from. If what I represent is too much for him to bear. Like he’s undeserving of being loved back.

  He closes his eyes as my words slash at his feelings. “I’m not afraid to love you back.”

  “Then what? Are you having second thoughts about us?”

  “No,” he growls.

  “Do you wish you’d never met me?” I press.

  “No!” he says louder.

  “Then what is it?” I say, matching his tone.

  “I’m afraid that my love will result in your death!” He rips his hand from mine.

&n
bsp; I open my mouth to shout back at him, but a rap on Aiden’s window causes us both to jump. Aiden opens the door, and Evo bends to get a good look at us. He frowns when he soaks in the hostility, the animalistic side of him picking up the thick expressions.

  “What?” Aiden growls, barely containing his displeasure at the interruption.

  I watch Evo and match his frown. His white polo shirt is covered in blood, and his blond hair is disheveled and dirty. I lean forward to gape better at him. “Evo? What is it? What happened?”

  He waves his hand in the air. “We need you, Eliza. Hurry.” Turning from the door, he jogs back to the house. By the time I pull the handle on the car door and nudge it open with my knee, he’s thundering up the stairs. I hop out while his shaking tone echoes in my ears. I know that tone. I heard it hundreds of times in the ER.

  Aiden meets me at the back end of the car and grabs me by the elbow. “Eliza.”

  I jerk my arm away and spin to face him. “Don’t,” I hiss. “Not everything is about you, Aiden.” I poke my finger at his chest. “I love you enough to fight for you. I love you enough to see what you are and except it, knowing you can’t change. You love me but want to run. That’s what you’re trying to tell me. That’s why you’re distancing yourself. You’re scared that what we have is too great for what you are. You plan to leave me, thinking it will save me?” I pause to dangerously deepen my voice, and under my skin, my nerves pulsate with electricity. “I won’t have any part in it. I won’t beg you. I won’t plead to make you stay. But I will tell you this: I’m not scared of what we share.”

  And with that, I spin on my heel and walk away. The closer I get to the house, the faster my pace picks up, and before I know it, I’m jogging up the steps. With each step away from Aiden, I feel number until all that’s left is a hollow husk. Aiden remains in the grass, dumbfounded, and I cast one glance back at him. He watches me, his expression hard and reserved, holding his feelings in check. I meant everything I said. If he truly feels he can’t control himself around me, that he’s my biggest threat, then he’s more self-centered than I thought him to be. Leaving me would harm me. Leaving me would shatter me into pieces until I truly wished for death. He’s the air I breathe, and I’m glad I told him. I’m glad he heard it because then he can finally start dealing with it.

  I take in a deep breath, eye the arriving car driving to the garage, give a small wave to Dyson in the driver’s seat, and slide inside the door left open for me.

  “Eliza!” Kenna yells, rushing out of the room adjacent to the living room. I make my way around the couch. And then, I stop short. The numbness creeps away replaced by something else entirely. The something that was smothering from as far as inside the car. Death.

  A woman – Victoria - is on the floor, still. Unmoving. Empty of life. Her skin is torn deep with bite marks and ripped away flesh. Her clothes are nothing but dirty tatters, and she stares blankly at the ceiling. Unmoving. Oh god, she’s not moving. Someone had folded her arms around her middle in a gesture of peaceful sleep, but the death invades me still. The wrongness of it. The shock of it. The hollowness of it. My heart patters a steady beat of fear. I didn’t like the woman, but I didn’t wish this. I never would have wished this on anyone.

  “Eliza!” Kenna calls again, poking her head from inside the bedroom door.

  Startled, I whip to her and search her wild eyes. My own are blurry with tears. Another death. Another life lost in the chaos, in this decimation of all things good. Fresh blood is streaked across her cheek, and her dark brown hair that was in a ponytail before they left is disheveled, several strands fallen from place. Tears stream down her cheek, and her chest heaves as quickly as mine does pumped by adrenaline. By fear. By grief.

  I rush to her and enter the room crammed with the wolf pack. On the bed is Romaine, his face pinched as he fights for air, but he can’t. Not properly. His throat is partially torn open, and a deep wound in his abdomen gleams bright crimson against the pale light of the room. His skin is slick with his own blood, and I swallow thickly at the sight of it. How could something so brutal, so vicious, happen to someone so beautiful. Romaine is beautiful, in appearance and in personality. I had never had much time to talk to him, but there’s this air about him, this sort of happiness that radiates from him. And now . . . Now it’s gone, sucked away by pure agony.

  A calming feeling slides into place, a robotic sort of switch, allowing my limbs to move properly, for my brain to click with years of medical knowledge. “What happened?” I ask, rushing to Romaine’s side. His eyes land on mine, a plea in his dilating pupils.

  “It happened so fast,” Brenna utters. “We couldn’t get to them in time. We couldn’t – We couldn’t -”

  “It was a trap,” Ben growls, slamming his fist against the wall and punching a hole through it. Chunks of the wall and chipped paint rain to the hardwood floor.

  “What was?” I ask, taking the medical bag from Evo’s grip.

  “The vampires,” Evo answers, the calmest of the rest. “They set a trap, dividing us into three groups without us being aware of it. Victoria and Romaine were attacked, and before we could get there and help, a swarm of them . . .”

  I had forgotten about their vampire raiding party, but even so, this isn’t an outcome I would have predicted. I’ve seen these wolves in action. I’ve seen them fight for their lives and the lives of people they know. Never had I thought this was something I’d come back to. I reexamine Romaine’s wounds, noting teeth marks in a few places.

  “There’s no way vampires could organize like that on their own. Someone was leading them. Telling them where to go or some bullshit like that,” Kenna utters, her voice shaking.

  “I know,” Evo says to his mate. “We all know who’s at fault for this.”

  “He’s in so much pain,” Kenna whispers, her gift forcing her to feel every ounce of agony Romaine is enduring. I gaze at Romaine and watch him blink against it, fighting it. But these injuries are severe, no miracle would cure him.

  I rummage through the bag with shaky hands, pulling items out and dropping them to the floor when I deem them useless. Nothing will save this wolf. Staring inside the empty bag, I will it to summon what I need, but nothing happens. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

  I growl and throw it against the wall with all the strength I have. “You have nothing to save him!”

  Again, another life will end by my hands because there’s nothing I can do. First Aiden, then Mitus, and now Romaine, not to mention everyone I lost when I wasn’t magically gifted. Even now, with all of this power flowing through me, I can’t save him. My power comes from the King of Death, and soon, Romaine will greet him.

  Dyson, Kat, Flint, and Irene arrive and hover by the room’s entrance, shocked still by the scene before them. Irene’s hand flies to her mouth, and tears swell while Evo recounts what had happened. In the middle of his retelling, Aiden’s voice rumbles above all else.

  “Move,” he demands to the group blocking his way.

  They separate, allowing him space to enter. His eyes are molten while he gazes at Romaine’s broken body, whimpering in pain.

  “What are you doing?” Kenna asks.

  “He won’t survive,” Aiden says to her then talks directly to Romaine. “Do you want me to take the pain away?”

  Romaine’s answer is several blinks, and his bleeding bottom lip trembles as he tries to mouth the word yes. Aiden inclines his head, and the sparkles along his night black skin twinkle. He bows his head further, his chin tucked in the dip of his collar bone while I kneel beside Romaine, taking his slick bloody hand in mine.

  I coo to Romaine as he watches Aiden lift his arms. Hot tears stream down my cheeks, and I listen to Romaine’s ragged, limited breaths. With a deep inhale, Aiden begins sucking the fear from Romaine’s body. The emotion leaves Romaine’s caramel skin in puffs of fog, but I don’t think the others can see it. I watch, mystified, terrified, as Aiden pulls it to him. The haze finds Aiden’s pores, the open
ings in his face, and willingly draws into his body. The sparkles brighten. The lava pours from his eyes and drips to the floor, sizzling the wood before it dries into hard rock.

  Aiden exhales and sucks in an even larger amount. The light flickers above. This time, the fog is thicker, pulling quicker, more willing to leave its host. Romaine’s face transforms, becomes peaceful, his expression less edgy and frightened as he finds the inner peace I can practically feel between our joined hands. His fingers slacken in my grip, and with the next pull of fear Aiden beckons, his eyes close, and the last breath leaves Romaine’s lungs in a slithering hush of wind.

  Silence. Utter, empty, silence. Death.

  I look at Romaine’s empty body, his skin paler. The quaking that had shaken his limbs with shock is now gone, and my bones echo the absent vibration. I expect rage to ring in the room, but it doesn’t. I expect sorrow to be screamed to the ceiling, but it isn’t. And when Brenna whispers a thank you to Aiden, a sob wracks my frame.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  DYSON COLEMAN

  EARTH REALM

  “You’re quiet,” Kat says, turning the wheel of the SUV down a road less travelled.

  The road is slick with mist and walled by rows and rows of forest trees. Several animals feel safe enough to stand next to the blacktop, and deer munch on grass in the ditch, seemingly careless with their short lifespan. She’s had to slam on the breaks several times, but each time she has to, it doesn’t affect me. I’m still in a daze at what happened two nights ago, and the feeling of being jolted helps return sensation to my limbs.

  “I can’t stop seeing their deaths,” I admit quietly, my breath fogging the window chilled by the morning air. I didn’t sleep well last night, either. Nobody did. Nobody has, no matter how many attempts they make at it.

  “You have to shut it out,” she mutters after several long seconds of silence.

 

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