Killer Rayne

by Alanna J Faison

  “I make it a point to know all potential threats. The nine have survived as long as we have because we never forget. You’d do well to use that advice if you want to live a long life too,” she says cryptically.

  “Now, grandmother, this is Rayne. Signum Immortales.”

  Something about the immortals.

  “Ah. I also feel your blood inside of her.” She ushers us deeper into the room and into seats so soft that I feel that I’m being swallowed. “Have you given up on the girl then?”

  “Never,” Zara answers, voice low.

  “I just don’t understand. She will be the ruin of you.”

  “Zahira, please,” Zara begs.

  She ignores Zara and again looks at me. The same vampire from the front door brings in a tray of drinks. Two of them contain blood, the other two wine. It’s the last thing I need, but I accept it while ignoring Selene and Zara’s looks.

  “You don’t even know the power you possess. You fear it,” she says to me. Her red eyes pierce my own hazel orbs.

  “That is not true. I do not fear strength.” I set the drink down.

  “You fear failure. Therefore, you fear your strength. You are but an infant. Children fear the dark,” she chastises.

  “Say you’re right. Can you blame me for being afraid? This entire world is changing and we are supposed to be the wind that chooses the course. That is a lot of pressure,” I admit.

  “The world spins every second. Change is a constant reminder that we live. If you want to keep living, you must consume that fear with the flames of your power. That is why you have the problem that you have now. You allowed the witch’s power to take hold of the fear that you possess and you trigger him inside of your mind without even realizing it,” Zahira explains.

  “What else can you tell us?” Selene asks as I contemplate her words.

  Her grandmother looks at Selene and then Zara, an unspoken conversation taking place between them. Zara remains firm as Zahira tests her resolve.

  “Zara promised us help,” Selene tells the older vampire. I beam inside. She looks like a true high priestess as she returns with her own steely gaze.

  Zahira’s legs are crossed and she sits up in her chair as if it is a throne. The only thing that would make her look more queen-like is if she was a few steps above us with a crown on her head. I thought that my mom was high maintenance. She probably has servants that allow her to use them as foot rests while she drinks from the vein of the pool boy.

  “Yes, grandmother, they are powerful. They may become our enemies one day, but today is not that day. We need their power if we are to survive. I will not serve anyone but my family. I will not kneel to him,” Zara growls.

  “Apollo will not be pleased that you are spending so much time teaching and protecting them,” her grandmother warns as she studies her face. She sips the red liquid and licks her lips in appreciation.

  1965 virgin blood kept preserved by the best witches money has to offer. I’m sure she really has a bottle of that somewhere.

  “I can deal with Apollo. He is practical when it comes to these things.”

  “Fine. You are the one that chose to yield control to him. You will be punished for this.”

  Why would she be punished? What is really going on? I know that it isn’t my place to ask, but it’s really hard biting my tongue. I have to trust that Zara knows what she’s doing and she doesn’t need me opening my mouth to try and save her.

  “That, I accept, as always,” Zara replies. Her voice is emotionless.

  “Why do you fear him so?” Zahira asks, leaning forward. “He may have more power, but his mind is weak. You surround yourself with powerful allies and he with slaves. You used to want what you have freely given him.”

  “It is not mine to claim, Zahira, please!” Zara yells. The emotion that was erased just seconds ago flares to life instantly. I feel her sorrow through our bond. “I do not wish to continue this conversation. Please, let us help Rayne.”

  Her grandmother pouts, an awkward sight with her lava filled eyes. “Fine. This will be on you then, child. Let us go into the library.”

  We all leave the room and trek downstairs to another dark room. Figures. Mercifully, motion lights click on. This one is filled with the smell of old books. We take our seats among the literature as Selene scans the cases in awe.

  “Before the library of Alexandria was destroyed, my grandfather was able to save some of the texts that were hidden in a secret room. A seer had warned him that they would be important and he spent months sneaking out as many documents as he could. The nine possesses more knowledge than any other race. Remember that well,” her grandmother tells us proudly. No wonder Zara seems to always know so much.

  That was around 332 BC and people don’t actually agree how the library was actually destroyed. Wow. That certainly puts in perspective how old these vampires are. I wonder how old the oldest vampire is.

  “May I?” Selene asks.

  “If you give your word that you will not reveal this to anyone,” Zara responds.

  “On my honor,” Selene replies and Zara nods.

  We all patiently sit in silence as Selene picks up document after document and skims through it the way a teenager does the latest gossip magazine. She is truly in her element right now and I’m happy for her. She’s always prided herself on her knowledge of supernatural history and now she gets to touch pieces that she didn’t even know existed.

  As she’s skimming, Zara and her grandmother begin to have a conversation in French. They talk and laugh occasionally, clearly not wanting us to know what they’re talking about. I think they just want to show off their expertise at speaking another language. Good for them.

  “You would love to spend time with Zara’s eldest brother, Dante. He is truly a scholar among scholars.” Zahira addresses Selene with suspicious kindness.

  “Maybe one day I’ll have the pleasure of meeting him.” Selene eyes her warily. She notices it too.

  “I’ve never tasted the blood of a high priestess before.”

  “And you won’t today either. Please, these are my friends. Stop trying to cause mischief.”

  “You’ve gotten too soft. When is the last time that you’ve had a good hunt?” Her inquiry stirs some emotions inside Zara. I feel her fighting the thought.

  “You take blood from those that are willing, but when was the last time that someone begged you to stop before they begged you to take it all?”

  Zara’s fangs protrude as her grandmother forces her aura on her.

  “Stop trying to make me lose control. I am fine.”

  “I just worry about you. You sometimes forget who you are.”

  “As if you’d ever let me forget,” Zara snaps and Zahira laughs.

  “My favorite granddaughter. I love you more than you’ll ever know. I just want you to enjoy life. Between you playing with the humans and brooding over the loss of your mate, I have to make sure that you know when it’s time to move on and come back to reality.”

  “I will get her back and I like who I am now. Just be happy for me. This is who I am,” Zara tries to explain.

  “And I want a great grandchild.”

  “Grandmother!”

  I chuckle despite myself. She may be a vampire, but with that, she just reminded me of plenty of other families. Their worries may be slightly different, but they love each other all the same. It makes me a little jealous. I don’t have that anymore.

  “Fine. For now, I will leave you be. Priestess, as you search those documents, why don’t you tell me why you haven’t claimed your birthright.”

  “I guess I can tell you the story since you’ve been kind enough to allow me to have access to this.” Selene smiles.

  I sit back as I wait for her story.

  “I was the first born of twins. Witchborn twins that were birthed in a great storm. The storm is said to have been called upon by our magic. As the prophesy goes, that first twin will gain the power to call on the magic o
f the second twin. Santos was treated as a tool and second class citizen by my father because of that. He was told that his life belonged only to me.”

  Selene comes to sit down as she tells the rest of the story. She looks to me for hope that I understand her relationship with Santos and the burden of her power little better. I sit quietly and wait.

  “Santos was forced to learn to fight so that he would always be able to protect me and so that I would have even more power when I ripped it through him. If he wasn’t strong enough, I could kill him by taking too much of his chakra. Santos and I both rejected that notion. I didn’t want to use my little brother. I love him. When he made a mistake, he was beaten. I tried to protect him as much as I could, but we often didn’t train together and I wasn’t around.”

  I give her a sad smile. I do understand the love of a sibling.

  “Because my father pushed him so much, Santos finally snapped. He planned for us to run away together a month before we turned eighteen. I was supposed to claim my birthright. He would essentially have been a slave in his own eyes. So, he resented me on some level. Without him, I’d still be a high priestess because of the circumstances of my birth, my green eyes possessing the pattern that only some awakeneds can read. But without Santos, I don’t have my true power. The night we were going to run away together, the plan broke down and I allowed myself to be caught so that he could run and lead a normal life.”

  “How noble of you,” Zahira comments.

  Selene shrugs her shoulders as if saying that it was only the right thing to do. To her, I’m sure it was.

  “He ended up crashing the car when he was running from my father’s guards. An innocent driver was killed and I was unable to go many places without heavy guard after that. I hadn’t seen Santos since.”

  “And now, Namen has him and he wants you too,” I say, shaking my head. “In terms of strength or magical power, you may be the most important to him. Even if he uses Ka’el or Anubis to force the werewolves to change or submit, he can’t force all of their loyalty. He can however, use Santos against you.”

  “He can try. The very thing my brother fought against was being used as a tool. I will save him from that fate. No matter what it takes.” Selene’s voice is full of cold resolve.

  “You do understand what you’re saying, right? You don’t even know to what extent he’s being controlled, or why,” I say.

  Selene gives me a death stare and I leave it alone.

  “That’s interesting. Do you think you have the focus to help me delve inside Rayne’s mind without causing damage?” Zahira asks. She stands up, walks up to me and brushes a cold hand against my cheek.

  I don’t move, even though I want to. I think that’s the reaction that she expects.

  “I’ve been working on something. I can do it,” Selene assures her.

  “Good.” She snaps her fingers and about twenty seconds later, a vampire flashes to her side with another glass of dark red brew. She downs it like a trooper. “Let us not delay.”

  “Thank you Zahira,” I say honestly.

  She pulls me up by my jacket, fangs gleaming with left over blood. “Don’t thank me just yet.”

  ◊◊◊

  Zara holds me down by the arms as I lie on the table. Selene takes my blood from the tiny bite that Zara makes on my neck. Zahira takes some as well, tasting it with pleasure. Ugh. Selene marks my forehead with it and then my palms. I have no clue what she’s doing, but I trust her.

  “I don’t know how deep Namen’s compulsion runs, so you’re going to have to remain still. It’s going to hurt. I’m going to get inside of your mind and then allow the magic to guide Zahira where she needs to go. You have to let her or it won’t work. Chances are Namen will see what we’re doing and try to stop it. He may show you things that will break your will. Don’t let it,” Selene warns me. She’s concerned, but I try to give her a look of reassurance. I can do this.

  “Come on love. It’ll be just like a brain freeze,” I joke.

  Zara snorts and shakes her head. “Open our bond. It’ll make it easier. Good. Now, close your eyes.”

  I close my eyes, but just as quickly, they snap open as I scream from the pain. Zara grips me tighter as Selene works her spell. I beg her to stop as I feel Namen’s magic inside of me fighting off the invasion. It feels as if I was thrown into a fiery volcano as my brain heats up to temperatures that are not possible. I know that it’s not real, but when it feels this real, you can’t help but think that you’re dying.

  “Selene can’t stop. You have to let her in. Once you do, the pain will stop,” Zara coaxes me.

  I’m aware of Zahira waiting patiently to enter my mind as Selene tears at the gates of my sanity, but I can’t let her in if this feeling will get worse. I won’t survive it.

  “You won’t survive Namen breaking you from the inside. Let her in, Rayne,” Zara orders. “I’m going to compel her. This isn’t working.”

  She forces my eyes open and speaks some words to me, but I can’t remember just what it is. A second later, I’m standing at a window overlooking the ocean. The view is beautiful and I want to leave the room so that I can walk to the shore and put my feet in the water. But, I think I have to stay here. I have to watch for something. If I move, I’ll miss it.

  There’s a flash of light and then I’m chained to the wall of a dark room. The chains eat into my skin. I pull on them in panic. Another flash. I’m standing on the diving board for the first time, my friends all encouraging me to jump. The images flash before me as if I’m skimming the channels. It’s too fast for me to keep up, but since they’re my own memories, I recognize them anyway.

  Reality snaps back into place and I watch in my own mind as the older vampire searches for something. She seems to find it but is knocked back and I’m completely powerless to assist her. Zahira growls and attacks as I am pushed deeper into my mind and away from the action. Here, there is only darkness.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  I am awakened by a bright light. No, that’s not true. The darkness of my mind that was threatening to swallow me has been pushed back by a bright light. I can’t explain it, except to compare it to staring directly at the sun and unable to turn away, to blink, or anything. It’s a painful experience and I know that I’m not completely conscious yet. Perhaps Zahira has done more damage than Namen had.

  Maybe I’ll be forever broken.

  “Don’t think like that,” a painfully familiar voice tells me. Yet, for some reason, I can’t quite remember who it is.

  “I know you,” I say, reaching into the darkness, searching.

  “You do. But, I am breaking the rules here with the help of a friend and because of that, I have to make sure that you don’t completely remember. You won’t even recall this conversation when this is done,” the voice explains.

  I grow frustrated. “Then what is the point?”

  “Because I love you so much and even if it’s just a little bit, I want to help you. For you, I’ll always break the rules.”

  There’s searing pain and longing in my soul from those words. That voice, why can’t I remember?

  “You are not broken, Rayne. You may not be whole, but you are definitely not broken. I am so proud of you for trying so hard to remain strong, for not giving in. I need you to know that. Now, I need you to listen carefully because even though you won’t remember what I’m going to say, somewhere, instinctually, you’ll understand when the time comes.”

  “I’ll listen,” I say.

  “I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to do this again,” the voice says, filled with sorrow. Again, my heart aches. “Namen Young has a very large weakness. There are others that will seek to exploit this for their own gain. Where I’m at, things are… never mind. I’m forbidden to speak on it. Rayne, you must remember who you are. Never forget. Now, listen.”

  I do as I am told.

  ◊◊◊

  The man in front of me has a sword to my throat. The sharp blade digs
into my neck and draws blood. The pain feels real and it takes me a second to realize that this is not me; I’m an invisible bystander inside of Namen’s mind.

  Who knows how long ago this memory is from. There isn’t enough for me to go on to guess and I was never really good at history. So, I simply watch and wait. The memory seems to flicker in and out as if it is simply bad TV reception. Slowly, it clears again.

  “You refused my order, Namen. No one refuses me,” the big blonde man with the sword says. His European accent is filled with rage.

  “We promised those people relief. We cannot just break the treaty on a whim. I will not kill those people, brother. I will die before you make me,” Namen warns.

  “If that is your wish,” his brother responds before pulling his sword away from Namen’s throat. With a smooth motion, the big man chants and spells his sword with a touch to the blade.

  The steel glows and he swings just as Namen pulls out his own sword, ready to battle his brother. Then, the memory cuts to Namen standing over his brother’s body. He howls in pain at his own actions even as he clutches the sword in one hand and bends down to rock his brother’s broken body back and forth.

  The memory fades again to Namen walking into a village, blood still staining his clothes from the murder of his brother. Inside the town square, villagers are waiting for him, eyes glowing in hate, arrows pointed at his chest. He hesitates, fearful.

  “Witch!” they cry. The chorus of voices growing ever louder.

  He tries to escape, but one shoots an arrow through his leg, dropping him. Hands grab and beat him.

  “I saved your lives,” he screams. “I killed my brother to save you!”

  They gag him.

  He is pulled into the middle of the square where numerous people take turns, kicking, punching, and spitting on him. Even as a memory, the pain as well as his fear overwhelms me. I don’t want to die. I’ll do anything. Lord, please don’t let them take me, he begs.

  However, it isn’t the heavenly divine that answers his plea. A dark spirit takes over Namen’s consciousness. Demon. The sinister energy can still be felt through this memory and I shiver. I swear that I feel the demon laugh at my own wariness as if he’s cutting through time itself.