by Kate Martin
Her smile grew. “Why should it?”
“He’s a vampire. He drinks human blood. You’re supposed to be afraid of him.”
“Oh, I could never be afraid of him. I miss him terribly while he’s away.”
I turned on Cade at that. “She misses you? Did you program that into her as well?”
“It is just another part of the illusion. She needs a story to go along with her midnight trysts, I give her one. As I said before, she carries no recollection of me into her life. We could pass on the street and she wouldn’t even have a sense of déjà vu.”
“And you think this is okay? Moral?”
“What other choice do I have? I can’t risk hunting as I used to with our kind exposed as we are. She is not hurt by this.”
“You’re scrambling her brains!”
“Hardly.”
The young woman held her wrist out to me. “Would you like a taste as well?”
I wanted to scream. Instead, I bit my lip and took a deep breath. “No, thank you,” I told the woman, hoping to spare her warped feelings. She didn’t seem insulted. As soon as I said “no” her eyes were all for Cade again.
“Fine. Whatever.” I turned on my heel and headed back towards the street. “Do what you want. Just hurry up. I need a shower.”
Before my feet hit the pavement I could hear Cade’s teeth sink back into her neck. I paced the street, half hoping someone would be stupid enough to venture outside and catch me. Catch Cade. That would certainly teach him. Full-on exposure seemed to be the only deterrent in my household. In my time alone, ignoring the activities going on behind me, my mind wandered back to Dana and the act of depravity I myself had committed that night.
I was no better than Cade and his hunting. I couldn’t decide which of us was worse. Him and his mind-games, or me and my killing. At least Dana couldn’t be hurt again, couldn’t hurt anyone else now. This woman, Cade’s food source, would have to endure this treatment over and over again. And what if his charm failed? What if she suddenly remembered going out every night and allowing herself to be some monster’s buffet? Of course, what did I know about charming? Nothing. I hadn’t known it was even possible until a few days ago. How many more secrets were they keeping from me?
Cade rejoined me faster than I would have expected. He stopped beside me, hands tucked into his pockets, not a drop of blood on his lips to indicate what he had been doing only moments before. “Are you going to hate me now?”
“Would you care?”
“Perhaps. A little. Charming is a part of our world. It is how we survive.”
“Charming is yet another secret all of you have kept from me. And that includes Rhys.”
“You would be overwhelmed if we told you everything in the first day.”
“Well, I’m tired of secrets, and I am tired to hearing that excuse. I want to know everything. And I want to know now.”
“I cannot tell you everything. But I can teach you how to charm.”
“And what about everything else?”
“We will cross those bridges as we come to them.”
He seemed sincere enough. But I knew Cade well enough to know that he had the most perfect poker face in all eternity. He could lie to me about my own name. But what choice did I have?
“I don’t think I want to learn how to charm.” I didn’t need to have that much control over a human’s mind.
“You must learn, or you will have no control. The ability to charm grows stronger with age. Your influence will begin to have pull over human minds whether you like it or not. You can learn to control it, or you can be controlled. Just like every other ability you will come into.”
Something in his tone tipped me off. “You were told to do this, weren’t you? I have been officially allowed to know about charming, haven’t I? Despite the fact that I already found out. Nothing you do is by accident.”
“When you live as long as we do,” he said, “nothing ever is.”
Chapter Fourteen: The Society
I spent the next morning in my room. Alone. Really alone. I’d fed from Warren early, then shooed him off, instructing him to keep Millie at bay. Aurelia had gone out, so there would be no interference from her. I wanted information, I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.
So I lit the incense burner, made myself comfortable on the floor, sitting cross-legged against a pile of pillows, and closed my eyes.
I drew on feelings I now associated with Jacqueline. Things like caution, superiority, and fear. I thought of those few memories I had of being pregnant, of having a life growing within me. At times that feeling freaked me out—I had certainly never experienced it in this life—it was something unique to my life as Jacqueline Bontecou, and that helped bring her forward.
The sun shone overhead. The flowers of the garden in full bloom as I watched my daughter run through the yard, giggling with flowers in her hair and pink in her cheeks. My infant son sat on my lap, sucking on his fist. In the distance, I could hear the ring of steel and the blunt slamming of fists as my husband and his comrades trained in the field beyond.
Close, but not what I was looking for. I shook that memory off, but didn’t open my eyes. I wanted to hold onto that life. Carefully, I sifted through, as if searching through a pile of scattered papers.
Bandages on my once flawless arms. I would have scars now, but I didn’t care. The blood on my hands had dried, most washed away, though some had clung beneath my fingernails. The scars would remain. Evidence that I’d had my revenge. I couldn’t bear the mark, but no one could deny me these.
Mark? I didn’t know what she meant, but this memory wouldn’t give me what I wanted either. I needed a conversation, a solid piece of knowledge. I dug deeper, further. Into memories that were not so riddled with darkness.
Finally he thought me worthy. Ready. Two years since my family had been murdered; two years since I had become his wife in an attempt to learn more, to put an end to all this death. The book was, like most forbidden things my husband owned, centuries old, tattered and worn by extensive use. The leather binding creaked as I bent it back, and the pages rustled loudly against one another. I turned to the first of those pages to bear more than a few scrawled words, and read the title scribed boldly across the top three times.
The Truth.
Hands shaking, not from fear but from excitement, I began to read.
In this world there exists a secret society of those who patrol the darkness and see through to the light. These Hunters are humanity’s only defense against that which hides directly before them; in their homes, their churches, and their children’s games.
The Vampyre, a creature who can survive only by drinking the life blood of a healthy and vibrant human, has lived amongst us for centuries. Hiding like a disease that lingers in the body, waiting to strike, they have built myths around themselves, distorting the truth of their being, so as to suspend humanity in a perpetual state of ignorance. However, as nature always maintains a balance within her children, even when those children have twisted themselves into the most unnatural of things, a new species has risen up to combat these defilers of death.
Hunters are born with the ability to know the vampyre when it stares him in the face. As the vampyre can smell the human, so now can the human sense the undead. It has been described by some as an aura, a dark glow that replaces the brilliant light of the human soul. A corpse will appear much the same in appearance, with one small, subtle difference; the corpse lies at peace, unmoving and without the pulse of life. A vampyre’s dead aura will continue to throb in a sick mimicry of precious life. If they have recently fed, there may even be signs of the human’s bright light pulsing within them. But no vampyre will ever exhibit the brilliance that is a human soul.
As the practice has been passed on, Hunters have been born with extraordinary abilities that allow them to combat these fiendish creatures. Reports have been written of those who can shield their minds from the vampyre’s glamour and trickery, and those who can heal faste
r than a normal human and thus are able to withstand the onslaught of a vampyre attack long enough to deal the killing blow. These abilities have been passed on to the Hunters’ children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, creating royal lines of superb warriors.
The matter of seeing souls has led to further discovery that rebirth is actually quite common. Human psychics have confirmed that once a Hunter, a soul will always return to the family line, lending strength from past experience, and once again fighting this ever righteous battle. In a matter of generations a strong line of Hunting families has been established, all equipped to protect humanity and each other. The families continue to grow and intermarry. Rarely now is an outsider allowed within the secret walls of the Society.
The vampyres make their way in and out of human civilization, sometimes visible, sometimes not. Some even manage to live under the illusion of civility and respectability. But the fact remains, they cannot sustain life without taking from humanity. The dead are meant to be dead. And as long as the dead walk, there will be those among the living who will stop at nothing to give them the eternal rest they deny.
This was it. This is what I had waited so long for. This book would let me into the fold, into the Society and all their prized knowledge. I may not have been a Hunter by blood, but by God, I would learn to be one by the strength of my will.
Those creatures would pay for what they had done. I turned the page to begin the first chapter. The Art of Killing The Dead.
I opened my eyes. Flinging my hands as though I actually held the book and could toss it away. That had been a bit more than I had bargained for, but I had done it. I had found a memory on my own, searched for something specific and dug it up. And it had given me the answers I had sought. I could do this. And if I could do that, then I could learn to sense past lives in others.
But first, I needed to talk to Cade.
I found him in the study, bent over the table, pouring over piles of papers and stacks of hastily opened correspondence. He looked like a man ready to go to war, with knives and a thin dagger hanging from his belt. I shut the door behind myself, unafraid.
“Cade.”
“What is it, Kassandra?” Of course, he didn’t have to look up to know it was me.
He hadn’t told me to leave, so despite his busy appearance, I moved ahead with what I wanted to say. “You told me that Rhys once walked into a garden full of Hunters undetected, but you didn’t know why he would have done that. I know why.”
Slowly, slow enough that time dragged on, Cade set aside the paper he had been reading, and stepped back from the table to look at me. “How do you know this?”
“Because I remember it. Because he was there to see me. To see Jacqueline.”
“You remember this?”
“Yes. Actually I remembered it the day I ran off. It was what startled me. But I didn’t say anything because I wanted to be certain of what I had seen. I wanted to remember more first.”
“And so you have?”
“Yes.”
“And you are telling me this why?”
This was the part I was unsure about. “Because Jacqueline had married a Hunter. She was trained as a Hunter herself.”
Cade didn’t say anything for a long time. First he stared at me, studied me. Then he paced, for all of five steps. Then he turned back to the table, moving a paper aside, and looking at another.
Then he spoke. “You were a Hunter.”
“Yes. In one life. But not by blood, by marriage. I guess that’s important to them. The fact that Jacqueline was let in at all was unusual. Mostly because of her past.”
“What past?”
“Her family. They were killed by vampires. She wanted revenge.” I chased away the images of her loved ones, battered and bleeding on the floor of their home. Seeing that once—twice, I supposed—had been enough. “In any case, I just thought you should know. I’m not exactly sure how I feel about it all. I’ve never met any Hunters, so I don’t have any personal feelings, but there it is.”
“You could provide us with valuable information.”
“I could.” Something in my gut flipped. I hadn’t really thought this through. I had just made myself into an enemy playbook. “But that wasn’t why I told you. Not really. I wanted you to know why Rhys went to that house, and I wanted you to know that I’ve learned how to find memories I want. I spent the whole morning searching for information on the Hunters specifically, and I did it. I can help. If you tell me things, I can remember now.”
Cade drew a deep breath, something he did rarely enough that I wasn’t sure I had seen him do it before. “Kassandra, while this certainly explains Rhys’s strange behavior during that time, and while I am glad and pleased that you are learning to control your memories, I am not sure what help you think you will be.”
“I can provide information now! Ask me anything. I’ll do it again. There must be something I can remember that would help Rhys.” Why wasn’t he seeing this? I didn’t have to be useless any more. I could do just as much as the rest of them. Maybe I knew something no one else did. Maybe—
“Kassandra,” Cade said my name with enough force to stop every thought I had. His gaze met mine, with nothing there but sympathy and apologies. “Rhys is accused of having killed Lydia in 1911. You were not alive at the time. There is no memory locked away in your mind that will change his current situation.”
I didn’t understand him at first. Then all the confusion cleared away into one word that I knew very well. A word I thought I had been able to slough off. Useless. “Then why the hell did you tell me to focus and learn all this stuff? Why bother if it won’t help Rhys?”
“You needed a distraction. Something to occupy yourself with. What was the alternative?”
“Doing something that will actually help! Let me help! I can do this now, I can probably figure out how to see other people’s past lives. I’ll do that. Maybe someone else knows something.”
“And you are going to delve through the past lives of every living soul in the world? Be reasonable, Kassandra. There is not enough time for that, even when you have eternity.”
“Then give me something to do!”
I nearly screamed those last words, and they cracked on the silence that followed. I stared Cade down, willing him to give me what I wanted, what I needed. If Jacqueline could get revenge for her family, I could have justice for mine. I would not stand by one more day and contribute nothing to proving his innocence.
“As you wish.”
“Come on, Cade! You have to—what?”
“As you wish,” he said again. “You are right. We should never have left you out of the process. It was unfair.”
I almost didn’t believe it. Even though it was exactly what I wanted. “Thank you,” I said, fidgeting and adjusting my shirt.
“Millie and Madge left this morning to go to the town where Lydia was found. She will be returning in another day or so with all the information she is able to gather. You may help her sort through it.”
“Research? I get to do research? Isn’t there something else I could do? Something more proactive?”
“I will be leaving tomorrow to track down a former informant to the VFO and torture any information he may have out of him. Would you rather tag along for that?”
Monster business. Damn, Cade. He knew me too well. I grumbled, and avoided meeting his gaze. “No.”
“Then it’s settled. Until then, you can continue to develop your skill with your own memories. Aurelia will want to hear more when she returns.”
“Everyone else is gone, huh? Just you and me here?”
“And the human feeders.”
“And . . . they’re all working to free Rhys?”
“You are not the only one who loves him, Kassandra.”
Sometimes I think I forgot that. Forgot that while I had a few extra memories, Rhys had only really been a part of my life for a few months. He’d had centuries with the others. “I know.” I rubbed a
hand over my chest, waiting, praying for the now unfamiliar thump of my heart. I missed Rhys like I missed breathing air.
It hadn’t beat since the day of his arrest. That occasional thump had always made me feel a little more human, or at least reminded me of when I had been. A heartache was hard enough to bare with the constant drum of a pulse, forcing you to live. I had none of that. Without Rhys I felt dead inside. Emotionally, and physically. Without him, I was in a house filled with the past. Everywhere I looked I saw my parents. Rhys normally distracted me from all that. With him gone, I had nothing else to think about but my loss.
I couldn’t spend eternity in this house. I would go mad.
The front door opened and the scents of sandalwood, jasmine and water lily flooded the air.
They were home.
I made my way to the front hall as calmly as I could. If they had news, I wanted it. I wanted good news.
Cade had beat me there, unsurprisingly. He, the General and Aurelia were all doing that communicating with no words thing. It drove me nuts. Their expressions were all so serious, tight and drawn. Aurelia turned her eyes my way, but said nothing. But that didn’t worry me. I had grown used to being looked upon like some common mouse by her. It was when the General looked at me, and his expression turned from serious and angry, to a level of sadness and pity that my nerves snapped.
“Tell me.”
“Tyrus has made his decision.”
“What? But, how? Doesn’t he have to wait? We haven’t finished looking for proof yet!”
“Tyrus does not have to wait for anything,” Aurelia said.
My heart tried desperately to hammer in my chest, but it couldn’t. “So, what? What does that mean? What did he decide?”
The General’s gaze dropped away from mine, as if the subject were too painful to voice. Aurelia turned to face me fully and before she even opened her mouth, that all too familiar ice had taken up residence on my neck, and I knew I didn’t want to hear what she had to say. “He has chosen dismemberment and imprisonment for life as the punishment for the crime.”