Blood Hunter (The Grandor Descendant Series) (19 page)

“You know why I am here,” she said.

At these words Clyde smiled and said, “I know why… I just don’t know how.”

“I found a tunnel leading from the second level and out of the back of the building,” Ryder explained, straightening his clothes after Clyde’s assault.

“Interesting,” said Clyde. “I didn’t realise there were any hidden passages but I suppose it is an old building. Well, I guess if you can get in undetected then there is no harm.”

“Seriously?” asked Ari, staring up at Clyde in confusion. “You aren’t going to rat me out to Ragon?”

“What would be the fun in that? Besides, we have been looking for a few weeks and haven’t found one measly mention of the word Grandor, and there is nothing at all I have read so far that references the ability to freeze time, see into the future and resist a vampires lull. I mean, some witches have premonitions and wraiths can fight vampire control… but nothing should be able to stop time. But I think next time you decide to do your own homework, there should be someone inside that can make sure there is no one lurking around. This place is quietest at dusk and dawn; most vamps are out hunting at those times.”

“I don’t think that Ragon is going to volunteer his services,” Ari said sardonically.

“You’re probably right, but why would you ask him when you could have me?” said Clyde. 

“But… but you’re going to help me?” she said slowly.

Right on cue, Clyde’s wicked grin extended his face and he winked at Ari.

“Wow,” said Ryder, capturing the attentions of both Clyde and Ari. 

“What?” they both asked at the same time, turning to look at him.

Ryder, who had resumed his seat on the floor and was now reading a dusty leather book, looked up, apparently surprised to see that Ari and Clyde were staring down at him.

“What? Oh no, sorry, nothing on Grandor; just found a book about wraiths,” he explained.

“And why would you be interested in those things?” Clyde spat, as though the mere mention of the word left a nasty taste in his mouth.  

“I don’t know,” said Ryder, just as Ari leaned over his shoulder to see what he was reading, “it’s just fascinating.”

Ari read the first few lines and thought Ryder had a point; it definitely was fascinating.

The Were Truce

Wraiths and vampires as a species have united on many occasions, though none is more famous than their efforts to extinguish the waeres. Wraiths are the natural opposite to witches, for where there is light they bring only darkness, and where there is good they bring evil. These beings are granted immortality by gaining energy from the departed spirits, of whom they have dominion over. The young of wraiths are born, not made, and as such are impossible to distinguish from mortals, though early reports suggest they bear a mark, only seen by other certain immortals. This mark is said to be distinguishable for the different blood lines; below is a list of the current known marks…

Ari glanced down at the intricate marks that had been sketched underneath this paragraph. They varied greatly; some looked like star constellations, others were knotted circles with strange symbols that Ari had never seen before. She stared at one in particular that caught her attention; it was a small black ring inside which there appeared to be the head of an animal of some sort, perhaps a wolf. There was something familiar about it that Ari couldn’t quite put her finger on. She was just about to remark on this when Ryder flipped the page and she continued to read:

Wraiths are unable to be commanded by vampires, so for the truce to hold, the wraiths required incentive to be involved in the removal of a magical species. This was found in the ancient power of the waeres and their ability to morph into different Animalia. In agreeing to assist the vampires, the Ancients granted the wraiths their wish and those wraiths directly involved in the waere persecutions performed rituals that stole some of the waeres powers, giving them the ability to transform into a given animal. This stolen magic was dilute, with those wraiths which were involved only able to morph into a single animal, not many as was the case with waeres. 

“Didn’t you tell Ragon that you were meeting him?” Ryder asked, momentarily distracting Ari from her reading.

Ari, whose face had been plastered to the book, suddenly looked up in surprise.

“Shit,” she said, beginning to race from the library and back towards the second level.

“Time to go then?” said Clyde, moving away from the bookshelf and holding a hand out for Ryder to lead the way.

“This is going to take ages; Ragon is going to kill me,” she said, moving as fast as she cold down the spiral staircase, while the other two immortals leapt from the trapdoor and landed at the base of the stairs, waiting.

“I can think of a way to get you back faster,” said Clyde, the familiar mischievous grin spreading across his face. “No guarantees that you will like it.” In an instant he had reached up to Ari and pulled her onto his back. “Race you back,” he said to Ryder.

Unable to help himself, Ryder smiled and immediately belted down the tunnel. Clyde followed close behind, still gripping tightly onto Ari as he ran. Ari, who had been taken by surprise, did not have enough time to protest, and only just managed to hold on as Clyde jolted forwards.

In a few minutes Clyde came to a stop when the tunnel ended; panting behind him was Ryder.

“Not bad kid,” Clyde said to Ryder, as Ryder reached for the trap door that would take them back up to the rear of the building.

Ari, whose hair was wind swept and mercifully covering her exhilarated face, moved to get down from Clyde. The three then climbed through the trap door, out past the hedges and large pines that surrounded the rear entrance, and then walked as casually as possible towards Cruor Halls.

“So, we’re not telling anyone about Ari being able to get into the, err, library?” Ryder asked innocently.

Ari nodded in agreement and the pair stopped to stare at Clyde.

“Hey, I can keep a secret. What vampire library? Ari who?” he said, chuckling lightly to himself.       

True to her word, half an hour after speaking with Ragon, she was reaching out to bang on his door in Cruor halls. Before she could knock even once however, the door was flung open and Ragon greeted her, pulling her inside.

“It’s freezing isn’t it,” she said innocently, before realising that her efforts to get here so quickly had left her ragged and sweating.

“Yea, I suppose so,” Ragon replied, smiling as he squeezed her hand and drew her closer.

“Have you spoken to Sandra yet?” Ari asked sheepishly, hoping that Ragon couldn’t feel how fast her heart was racing from jogging there.

At these words Ragon looked around nervously.

“Not really; she’s still acting strange… Thomas is worried. The Chancellor doesn’t suspect her for what happened with Greg, but it isn’t like her to do something so reckless. Thomas and Sandra don’t keep sources, and it’s not like her to kill. Killing a student is grounds for a hearing.”

Ari gulped, unable to think of anything but the last time that someone from their coven had been called to a hearing by the Elders. Her breathing faltered as she recalled Ryder and Patrick handing from the Elder’s basement when they had been charged with killing all the girls in Brisbane. What would happen to Sandra if someone found out that she had killed Greg?

“Speaking of the cool weather,” said Ragon, moving over to the bed and pulling the sheets back, “I got you something and it’s all turned on, ready to go.”

Ari’s eyes were wide and lustful, until she realised that Ragon was tapping an electric blanket.

“For a moment, I thought you were talking about something entirely different,” she said, while a huge smile broke over her face. “But it’s probably best that you were talking about the electric blanket because I have to study tonight.”

“Study, schmudy.”

Ari took a deep breath, trying to resist the delicious smell of his deodorant, which assaulted her nostrils and overpowered her self-control, in a similar manner she imagined vampire toxin would, if it worked on her.

“No I can’t.,” she said, “If I don’t go now then I won’t leave ever.”

“That suits me just fine.”   

It took Ari another half an hour or so before she was able to drag herself out of Ragon’s room. She decided to go up to the cafeteria and grab something to eat before starting her assignment from the day’s prac class. At the same time she hoped that the lunch ladies wouldn’t notice her smuggle out a sandwich for Chris. She thought he might appreciate the snack before she dropped the bombshell about the assignment on him.

When she got to the cafeteria she was pleased to see that Lea had just sat down also. Lea looked tired; there were large bags underneath her eyes and she ate with minimal enthusiasm, clearly not impressed by the bowl of wedges and sour-cream in front of her.

“Yum,” Ari said, as she began shovelling huge mouthfuls of beef lasagne into her mouth.

“Have you been fasting or something,” asked Lea, watching her with a slightly distasteful look on her face.

“I’m rot rarving,” Ari said incoherently; a huge mouthful distorting her speech. 

“What? I’m sorry; I couldn’t understand you with your mouth so packed with food.”

Ari laughed, but then soon began coughing as a portion of food forced its way down her wind pipe.

“Are you ok?” Lea asked, standing dramatically and whacking Ari hard on the back.

Ari held her finger out to indicate that she needed a moment, and Lea stood with her folk in one hand and her mouth open in anticipation.

“I’m fine,” Ari said eventually, and Lea resumed her seat, looking a little flustered.

“God, I thought I was going to have to do the hymnlike manoeuvre.”

The pair sat and talked for a god twenty minutes before Lea said that she was going to the library to study for a mid-semester exam on the Aztec civilisation. Ari made to leave also but then looking back at the hot plates, remembered that she wanted to grab Chris a snack. The lunch lady glared at Ari as she made her take-away sandwich, but did not reprimand her. Ari had not been game enough to take one of the plates out of the cafeteria, but made do by placing the sandwich on some alfoil that had been covering the lasagne, and left hurriedly before anyone could yell at her for taking food out of the cafeteria.

“Chris?” Ari yelled, holding his sandwich in one hand as she banged on his door with the other.

There was no response and so Ari knocked again, hoping like hell that Lisa wasn’t in there with him.

“Come on Chris? It’s Ari; we have an assignment due on Monday.” Still there was no response. “And I have a sandwich for you,” she added. “It’s delicious, with amazing sweet chilli mayonnaise.”

Another few moments passed and Ari hung her head.

Giving up she turned around and began walking back down the dark hallway before a soft, “Hey,” caught her attention and she spun around to see Chris.

“Jesus,” Ari said, racing back to him and looking at his bruised and swollen face, “what the hell happened to you?”

Chris was wearing no shirt and there were two large yellowing bruises above his ribs.

Chris managed a weak smile and said, “You said something about a sandwich and sweet chili mayonnaise?”

Moving hesitantly over to the door, Ari walked into Chris’s room. It was the first time she had been inside and she peered around curiously. Instantly she recognised the similar décor to that of her own room. He had the same style bed and the standard wardrobe and desk, which was covered with notebooks and a half closed laptop. It looked as if his bed had not been made in days, and when Chris moved back inside, he began to straighten the knotted sheets before sighing in frustration and crumpling on top of them. 

“What happened? You look like you’ve done twelve rounds with Mike Tyson,” said Ari, unable to stop looking at his battered body.

“Yea, something like that.”

There was a horrible roughness in Chris’s voice that wasn’t normally there; it lent a catch to his throat, which made him sound like a rusty old gate.