Darkness Unveiled

by Emerson Knight

“Fae?” Steven suggested. “Could they be manipulating the genums?”

  “Not their kind of magic,” Josh answered. “They could compel someone to injure another, but that would require constant physical contact.”

  “The elves are unlikely as well,” I added. Elves, like Gideon, were annoyingly mischievous, but not particularly ambitious. They were dangerous when cornered but rarely went out of their way to pick a fight.

  “I wouldn’t rule them out entirely,” Josh cautioned. “Mason seems to be developing a taste for power. According to my sources, he is pursuing an alliance with the witches.”

  “So we pay Mason a visit,” Gavin suggested, eager for a fight.

  “It would take a significant show of force to get him to talk,” I warned. “That still wouldn’t guarantee his cooperation.”

  Sebastian was silent in thought for a moment. “If Mason needs an enemy to consolidate power, he wouldn’t target the pack and the Seethe together.”

  “He might know who would.”

  “He wouldn’t tell us,” I said, earning a derisive look from Gavin. “Our witch has left the elves alone, for now. Mason wouldn’t risk drawing attention.”

  The room was quiet for a moment.

  “So that leaves us where we started,” Gavin complained, “waiting for our enemy to show himself.”

  “Or make a mistake,” I added.

  The next day, I investigated the farmhouses closest to Quell’s until I found one that had long been shuttered. The fields around the house were well maintained but it seemed the family had moved to a more modern house on the other side of the farm. After parking the SUV out of sight from the road, I hid the keys under a nearby rock. From the glove compartment, I retrieved a small tracking device attached to a gold necklace that I draped around my neck. I checked once more to make certain I wasn’t observed, then removed my clothes and transformed into my wolf, welcoming the cool comfort as my body quickly elongated. By the time I landed on all fours, the transformation was complete. I shook out my dark gray mane, feeling the necklace shift around my neck.

  Winding my way through the cornfields was time-consuming, but it was still daylight. The chances of being seen by a random observer were small, but a large wolf prowling farm fields would draw a lot of attention. An hour before dusk, I finally arrived at the edge of the cornfield just outside Quell’s house. The curtains were closed. I couldn’t be sure he was alone, but only his car sat in the driveway.

  Hidden from view on the far side of the car, I transformed from my animal, removed the tracking device from the chain, and attached it magnetically to the underside of the car. After a quick look around, I shifted back into my wolf and trotted back into the cornfield, taking a circuitous route to the greenhouse in Quell’s backyard.

  Neither the pack library nor the Internet had offered any mention of the Hidacus, but I knew the plant existed; he’d made Sky feed from it. I repressed a growl at the memory. Most likely it was the tall plant that towered over the rest. The stalk was treelike, sprouting numerous thick stems that ended with a single wide leaf. Only when I got a closer look from the other side of the greenhouse did I notice the dark veins that ran along the stems from stalk to leaf, disrupted by wide nodes that pulsed like a heartbeat. I could just make out the tiny ripples of the veins as fluid was pumped to the small buds at the tips of the leaves. Blood? I’d never seen anything like it.

  I trotted back into the cornfield, just far enough to hide while maintaining a view of the greenhouse, then lay down to wait. When dusk arrived, Quell wasted no time emerging from the house and walking through the glass vestibule to the greenhouse. After examining and rejecting two long stems of the plant, he raised another stem to his lips and bit, sucking greedily as if he hadn’t fed for some time.

  Witnessing him feeding from the plant did nothing to quench my distrust. Was the plant merely an alternate food source, for convenience, or a means to maintain an image that pleased Michaela? Did he feed exclusively from the plant? Even so, his nature would eventually draw him toward blood. Human blood. It was only a matter of time, and I was going to catch him in the process. Only then would Sky believe me that Quell, like any vampire, was a murderer.

  Once his thirst was slaked, he walked back into the house. A moment later he went out to his car and drove off toward the city. I ran back to my SUV, less concerned about being spotted this time. I changed quickly, dressed, retrieved my key, and started the vehicle. While the engine ran, I accessed the tracking app on my phone. By default, it was keyed into Sky’s phone. She was home. I switched to tracking Quell’s car. He appeared to be heading straight toward her.

  My jaw clenched as I sped to catch up to him. Instead of Sky’s, he stopped in a park near her house. Perfect hunting ground. By the time I arrived, he’d left his car. I presumed he was on the trail, looking to make a meal of a lone jogger. The park was largely empty, but too many people had trod the paths during the day for me to pick out the vampire’s scent. After a short walk into the park, I found a secluded area, then changed into my wolf. With my animal’s more refined sense of smell, I picked out Quell’s scent immediately. He wasn’t far, but I needed to keep out of sight, and not just from him. There was still the occasional jogger or hiker taking advantage of the quiet. I stayed off the paths, mindful to keep myself downwind from him whenever possible.

  After a few minutes, I spotted him on the trail, taking what seemed a casual stroll. A young woman wearing bicycle shorts and a light top, listening via earbuds to music from the cell phone strapped to her upper arm, approached him at a lumbering jog. She looked exhausted, at the end of an intense run. No one else was within sight. She was a perfect target—an easy kill. I crouched forward onto my front paws, ready to leap to the woman’s defense the moment Quell revealed his intentions. I would be within my rights to kill him, without violating the truce.

  But nothing happened. The woman jogged past Quell, who gave no indication that he even noticed her. He seemed distracted, glancing about as if expecting someone to appear. Had he seen me, caught my scent? Suspicious, I continued to follow him, at times circling around his position to avoid being upwind from him. He spent hours wandering—first the park, then through the nearest neighborhoods. At times, he circled the same areas multiple times. His gaze seemed to drift toward nearby bushes and anywhere from which something or someone might be lurking. Was he paranoid, or hunting? On several occasions, he was given the perfect opportunity to kill a lone passing human, to feed when he thought no one would ever know, but he actually seemed to veer away from them—almost unconsciously. If he wasn’t hunting humans, what was he hunting?

  This went on for hours before I realized that Quell had taken a circuitous route into Sky’s neighborhood. I tensed as he approached her home from the copse of trees behind her house. He stopped there, just outside the property, staring at the lights inside the windows. He spent an hour there, staring. When Sky appeared, passing by a window, his shoulders rose slightly, then fell, as if with a sigh. I suppressed a growl. Was he enamored of her? Had this vampire wrapped himself around her finger? I understood how he’d happened to find her when she’d had been injured by the creature two nights ago—he’d been stalking her. If so, he was more dangerous to her than ever. What was this power Sky had that made men so obsessed with her?

  Eventually, Quell returned to his wandering hunt until he found himself back at his car shortly before dawn. For a moment, I thought he hesitated, noting my SUV as the only other vehicle in the parking lot, then he got into his car and drove.

  After making sure he didn’t circle back, I returned to where I had stashed my clothes, transformed, then dressed. From the SUV, I tracked Quell’s movements until I saw he’d returned to his farmhouse. Exhausted, I returned to the retreat at dawn. Rather than surrender to the laziness of sleep, I found a couple of sparring partners and went down to the gym to work out my frustrations. The door to the side room had been shut, and someone had taped a sign on the door that read, “N
o longer in service.”

  The next two nights were much the same. Confident that Quell was only feeding on his plant while at home, I waited to pick up his trail until he came into the suburbs. The locations changed, but his mysterious hunt continued. Plenty of opportunities presented themselves for him to feed on human blood, to exercise the vampiric lust for cruelty. Each time he seemed oblivious, focused entirely on his fruitless quest. At the end of each night he waited outside Sky’s house, watching, before going home.

  By the third morning, I was exhausted. After a quick shower, I was headed to the kitchen for breakfast when I glanced into the treatment room. Joan was awake, sitting on the edge of her bed, hugging an emotional Steven. Taylor stood nearby, next to Dr. Jimenez. Both appeared teary-eyed. Sebastian stood with Dr. Baker, arms folded across his chest and wearing a relieved smile. I wanted to join them, to share my relief, but Steven didn’t need a bigger audience. Such a moment should be private, though I couldn’t blame the others for wanting to be there—Taylor, in particular. She had blamed herself for Joan’s injuries and had suffered tremendously during the long wait for her recovery.

  After breakfast, I was summoned to Sebastian’s office. Dr. Jimenez, Steven, and Joan were already there. She’d shed the hospital gown and dressed like any other day, but she remained pale and weak on her feet. I embraced her warmly, something I rarely did. She seemed surprised at first, then returned the embrace, but I kept it brief, respectful.

  “Welcome back,” I said.

  She nodded, smiling.

  “I hear a lot has occurred since the attack,” she said.

  Sebastian and I filled in the details of the events since she’d arrived at the retreat.

  “The Southern Pack?” she asked, anxious for the answer, but she knew the answer intuitively. She’d seen enough before her defeat that she was prepared to hear the worst.

  “Most of the Southern Pack were killed,” Dr. Jimenez explained in a gentle, but direct voice, the kind Dr. Baker frequently used.

  Steven watched her intently as Joan’s chin fell, hiding her expression. She accepted the news with a forced deep breath, released in a single, resolute exhale, then looked up with a wounded but determined expression. “But not all.”

  “There’s Taylor and myself,” the doctor said. “I’ve been in touch with a few others. They’ve scattered. Gone into hiding to protect themselves.”

  “I have to go back.”

  “No,” Steven said, shaking his head.

  Joan rested a hand on his shoulder as she explained to Sebastian, “I have to restore the Southern Pack, before it’s lost altogether.”

  “It’s not safe,” Steven insisted.

  She offered him a gentle, understanding smile. “I have to. We will need everyone for the fight to come. I’ll be careful, Steven.”

  “You won’t!” he shouted, exponentially raising the level of tension in the room. “None of us are safe! And you won’t have a pack to protect you.”

  “Steven,” Sebastian said, his patience wearing thin.

  “No! She can’t leave. She isn’t ready.”

  “Steven,” Joan said soothingly.

  “Sebastian, you can’t let her do this! She’s not ready,” he continued, desperate and angry.

  I’d gotten so used to relying on Steven’s usual steadiness that I’d forgotten he was still a teenager.

  “Calm down,” Sebastian insisted.

  “She’s barely healed and you are going to just let her leave?” He postured defiantly. “There is no fucking way I am going to let that happen!”

  “Steven!” Joan and Sebastian snapped almost simultaneously.

  “What?” he challenged them. “I’m the only one who seems to be thinking here. You are so preoccupied babysitting Demetrius and his Seethe. We don’t need to babysit them, nor do we have anything to prove. Screw them!” He turned to Joan. “And having your ass handed to you again or worse isn’t going to prove anything except that you have poor judgment and allowed your pride to compromise it. Who the hell wants an Alpha like that?”

  Sebastian tensed, and so did I. Steven hadn’t just crossed the line—he’d leapt over it.

  “You’re not leaving,” he commanded. “No damn way!”

  “Leave,” Sebastian finally ordered.

  Steven hesitated out of defiance or because the command stung him; either way, Sebastian’s patience had been exhausted. In a single stride he gripped Steven by the neck and opened the office door. Joan gasped as Sebastian pushed him to the hardwood floor just outside.

  “I’ve been more than tolerant of your little tirade,” Sebastian said, standing over him. “She’s your mother and you’re upset—I understand that. But you will not speak to either of us that way, do you understand? Don’t push my patience. I guarantee you will not be happy with the results of that.” While Steven gawked, Sebastian strode back into the office, slamming the door behind him.

  “You aren’t leaving,” he informed Joan, his tone noticeably calmer but still firm.

  “Sebastian.”

  “You have a mess to clean up when you go back. Putting yourself in harm’s way will not make it any easier. You are the Alpha now; you’ll need to demonstrate it. You will be challenged more times than I can even prepare you for.”

  “The longer I stay away, the more credibility I lose. It’ll look like I ran. They need a presence there—my presence. The longer I stay, the weaker I look.”

  Sebastian considered for a moment. I agreed with Joan, but she was in no shape for a fight. I wasn’t even sure she’d be able to help us.

  “I will make it known that you had no choice,” he decided. “If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me.”

  “Oh great, the Elite came to my rescue. I assure you that will work well in my favor,” she snapped derisively.

  “The South is destroyed. If you want them to trust you, follow you, and reduce the number of challenges you have, then return with the person responsible for killing your pack found and the situation handled. Then no one will doubt your ability to lead. You will return with more than a ‘presence.’”

  I could see the sparks of gold feline rage in her pupils as she glared at Sebastian.

  “This conversation is over,” he said, softening his tone, but the command was unequivocal. “You can let yourself out.”

  Joan angrily strode to the door and opened it, but hesitated to leave. I hoped she knew better than to challenge him further. After a moment’s pause, she gathered herself and left, gently closing the door behind her.

  I waited respectfully until Sebastian asked for a report on the current defensive posture of the retreat. I made the presentation as brief as possible, for his benefit and for mine. Sometime earlier, I’d told Josh to meet me in the library. Normally I would expect to find him fuming at the delay, but I suspected that he and the rest of the pack had overheard the argument in the office.

  On my way to the library, I noticed Sky in one of the recovery rooms, sitting next to Winter. Dr. Baker had moved her out of the clinic yesterday. Like Marko, she remained in a coma, for a few more days, at least. I hesitated, watching Sky’s concern as she brushed a tangle of hair from Winter’s eyes. A rush of emotions came over me in a confusing wash, guilt and admiration swimming in compassion and anger—mostly anger. I tore myself away before she could notice.

  I found Josh slouched with his legs crossed in a leather club chair in the far corner of the library. At my arrival, he looked up from the large tome in his lap. “How are Joan and Steven?” he asked, concerned, as I leaned against the corner of a bookshelf and crossed my arms.

  “They’ll live.”

  He frowned at me, debating a snide remark, then shook his head as he closed the book.

  “Any luck?” I asked.

  “None. Given the limitations you’d dictated,” he snapped. After his first attempt to remove the spell that blocked Dr. Yoshi’s memory, he had nearly driven the doctor to cardiac arrest. I’d forbid
den my brother from using potentially dangerous magic on the man. “If we’re going to have any chance to identify our nemesis, you’ll have to let me take the gloves off.”

  “The doctor is no good to us dead.”

  “You don’t trust me.” Josh buried his rising temper with a haughty chuckle. “How many times do I have to prove myself?”

  “If you were certain how to break the spell, I’d accept the risk.”

  “Right now, he’s the only chance we have to identify who this witch is,” he pressed.

  “We already know the witch has silver hair and purple eyes, and still we can’t identify him. How much more detail can the doctor give us?”

  “A name?”

  “Probably false.”

  “Ethan, I know you’ve decided Yoshi was manipulated into creating the poison. That may be, but we don’t know for sure. We can’t know until we break that spell.”

  “Find a way that doesn’t put his life at risk. We don’t pass sentence before the trial.” I watched as he ran a hand through his hair, then nodded. “Whatever game this witch is playing,” I said, “he’ll have to reveal himself.”

  “You’d think. None of this makes any sense, Ethan. Why the reprieve? Nothing has happened. Three days and there hasn’t been any movement from these things, not a single attack.”

  Before I could answer, Sky tentatively stepped into the library, glancing between Josh and me as if waiting for a formal invitation. Josh brightened, offering her a warm smile. He was as caught in Sky’s web as Quell was, I realized.

  “Did you need something, Sky?” I asked dismissively, my tone sharper than intended.

  She shook her head, but stubbornly held her ground, waiting for Josh to continue. I sighed. There wasn’t any point in trying to dismiss her further.

  “I just spoke with Chris,” he continued, “and there hasn’t been any activity with the vampires, either.” His brow tensed as he laid an arm vertically over his chest and nibbled thoughtfully at one of his fingernails.

  I was tired of not having answers. My hands turned slowly over each other as I paced the corner of the library. After a moment, it occurred to me that the only possible source of information left to us, as unlikely as it seemed, was the Tre’ase Gloria. That she’d left town suggested that she knew something. Even if she hadn’t returned, a more thorough search of her home might yield some clue. I turned to Josh in time to see him lean forward, as if he had an idea of his own. “You think we should—”