Dark Diary (28 page)

SHE HAS TO FIND HERSELF?

How long will it take?

My own period of darkness had lasted decades. Would I be strong enough to endure that much of Kathera’s evil?

I knew she would quickly become a smart killer, but it wouldn’t be long before the police realized the recent
murders were all connected. The last thing I needed was someone
snooping around my side of town and asking too many questions. I couldn’t leave her to her own wickedness, though
. I had to try something—anything!

To make things worse, I was barely able to sleep as she
continued to stir long past dawn. She had somehow acquired
a lack of sensitivity to the sun and that left more time for her to kill. I couldn’t believe how much blood had been shed in just one week following her change.

Had I really done the same? I couldn’t even remember.

Long periods of abstinence and physical struggle had made me capable of going days without blood. But now, this constant taste within me made it more and more difficult to adhere to my new ways. Every drop of blood from each new victim tempted me even as I slept. I awoke weary and famished.

As darkness finally came, I made my way back out into the
streets. I had no choice but to confront her again—in whatever persona she chose to take.

“Kathryn!” It pained me to call out such a beautiful name
so spitefully.

Her presence was strong and she wasn’t far from Restless
Ink.
The shop had been closed since Derek’s death, but she lingered near it.

Old habits die hard.

“Come out and face me, Kathryn!” I called again and waited.

It was quiet, but I felt a stirring deep inside. Now that we
were linked, Kathera could not hide her emotions anymore.

“You do not have to yell for me to hear you, Matthaya.” Her silhouette appeared faintly from out of the distance. It was quite different than before as her body was draped in soft wispy lengths of scarlet fabric and black lace. Layers of her dress moved with the wind as she stepped, and her bare
feet were disturbingly silent against the concrete. The golden
cross pendant glimmered near her collarbone. Lengths of
her curled red locks flowed down over the curves of her breasts and the fair skin of her low neckline taunted me with
visions of our past.

She was stunning.

And she now looked even more like Kathryn…

Her hair had been curled the same way. Her posture, an
exact reflection. Even her accent and the way her lips formed
her words were spot on.

However dark and twisted a manifestation of her she
had become, there was no doubt that it was Kathryn my eyes
gazed upon.

She approached me.

“Why have you come?” she asked, brushing a few fingers
through my hair and over my ear. “Had a change of heart, perhaps?” Her naked shin teased my leg.

“You know why I am here.” I tilted my face away from her hand.

“Yes. Your incessant brooding
is
difficult to ignore.”

“You have to stop this.”

“No.”

A soft growl escaped my clenched teeth.

“Give me a reason,” she added with a cold smirk.

As much as I had longed to have Kathryn back, I would have rather seen her dead than as the beast before me.

“Am I not reason enough for you to stop?” It was a stupid
response, but the first one to come to mind.

She laughed.

Where was Kathera? Suppressed? Trapped inside herself? It wasn’t fair to either of them like this. As much as I hated to admit it, I would have to find a way to rid Kathera of the vengeful spirit of my beloved Kathryn.

“And what of Kathera?”

She paused and examined me with a quick glance. “What
of her? Why is she of concern to you anyway?” She was more than irritated by my question. “You pledged yourself to me and only me.”

“I lied.”

“What?” Her eyes grew wide and their glow ignited with her anger. “How could you?” She scowled. “What does she possess that I do not?”

It was hard to compare them, but I had to. Somehow.

It was impossible to think of Kathryn as anything less than
perfect. She could be nothing less than an exquisite beauty
—with the gentleness of an angel and the heavenly passion to match. And Kathera—she had been just as beautiful inside and out, even when I had pretended to ignore it.

Yes.

Yes, she had been.

“Gentleness,” I started, recalling everything I had once loved in her. “Patience. Morality. Beauty and creativity, of course.” Then I remembered. “Ah, creativity.” I motioned to the storefront nearby and continued. “Kathera is an artist with talent beyond anything I have seen before. Her vision is vivid and real. She brings to life what others cannot. It was she who resurrected in me the love I once had for you. She made me remember how I once felt in your arms, when you wanted me with all of your heart and soul. She trusted me… like you once did.”

“Traitor!” Kathera roared and took several steps back, almost stumbling toward the street.

I followed her and continued. “
You
are the traitor, Kathryn
.
You have betrayed me and have lied to yourself.”

I could smell the faint scent of her blood as it laced the tips of her nails when they pierced her clenched fist.

“I have tasted Kathera’s kiss and it was everything I
had
cherished in yours. She granted me new reason to live—new reason to anticipate and not dread each night. And unless you let go of the jealousy you harbor, I can no longer be part of you. I will never again become one with the darkness that commands you.” I stretched out a hand toward her. “I will say it once more, Kathryn. Let me help you.”

“It is not I who is in need of help,” she sneered. “The power you despise has made me strong. I no longer need to fear. How can
you
deny such a gift?”

She was right. Immortality grants immense courage, and
at the same time, deafens the senses to the cost. It had, at one time, been a comfort to know that I need not fear anyt
hing in the night, but that delusion had given way eventually
and I had realized there was a horror I could never escape—myself.

“I could not at first,” I confessed and she gleamed curiously at me. “I have overcome it now and I refuse to be controlled by it.”

“And you want me to let go, as well?”

I nodded.

Kathera stepped closer, her dress drifting with a ghostly flutter as the breeze rushed past, her eyes fixated on mine. She came within a few inches of my face and stared into me as if she were searching for something deep within my soul. Her lashes lowered and she brought her face close to the side of mine, our cheeks almost meeting.

“No,” she replied with a cold whisper and then backed away. “I’ve heard enough, Matthaya.”

“But…” I could hardly believe Kathryn was turning her back on me.

Her head shook firmly in disagreement. “Leave me be.” A flick of her hand made my stomach turn.

She was done negotiating.

I had no other choice but to let her go. All I could do was
watch as my precious sun slipped through my grasp and back into the darkness. She was ignorant of my true intentions and unable to fathom the loyal passion I still had for her.

The past days spent alone after she had disappeared made
me realize how badly I needed Kathera back in my life. I had felt such remorse for what had happened to Kathryn centuries ago that the guilt had become necessary to keep me going. I had only been fooling myself, when I had really needed to let her go and face the truth.

Kathryn and Kathera were very different people driven by the same cosmic force and bound to the same thread as me. Though they may have shared a soul, they had been shaped and molded by their centuries, each taking on her own unique self. As much as I wanted to imagine a life again with my Kathryn, I had to accept that Kathera had already written her own story, only weaving me into it because of the love she had retained from her life as Kathryn. She was beautiful, all the same, and even though I had lost the ability to feel the nuances of mortal attraction, I still found myself in love with her.

Now… all I wanted was to tell her what I felt.

All I wanted was Kathera.

"KATHERA?"

There it was again!

That damned name—Kathera!

Who was Kathera?

My head jerked toward the source of the voice—a middle-aged man in an unzipped, black leather jacket. He was in his forties, shaved bald, and of a heftier build. The reflection of his sunglasses beneath the streetlamp distorted my vision and I shielded my eyes with my hand from the halos of white light.

“Who are you?” I squinted and slunk back into the shadows to see him better.

“You know me,” he said, “don’t you? Don’t you remember me? I heard the shop closed down and I was kinda worried about you after what happened to Derek an’ all.”

Derek? Who was Derek?

“I’m really sorry about everything, Kathera,” he added softly. The man came closer.

I panicked.

The force of me tackling him to the ground knocked the air completely from his lungs and he strained beneath my weight to get a word out.

He coughed hard.

“What’s wrong with you?” he groaned, his whole body pulsing with fear.

My nails pressed deep into his shoulders and I watched crimson ooze up around my fingers as he cried out in pain and struggled to free himself from my grasp.

I would kill him.

“Please.” His voice was hoarse and shaky as he weakened. “Don’t you remember?” He brought a hand across his chest and reached for his other shoulder. I growled and snapped my teeth at him, making him withdraw his hand quickly.

“Who is she?”

“Wh… what?” His consciousness fluttered in and out from
the loss of blood.

Weak mortal.

I hadn’t even bitten him… yet.

“Who is Kathera?” I bared my fangs and breathed the words close to his face.

“Uh…” His eyes were dark and wild and he looked very confused. “She’s…” He coughed again.

Something was wrong. I flattened my palms against his chest and listened. His heart missed a beat and he choked on his words. It was irregular and fervent, thumping at odd intervals. Then, it skipped again.

“Who is she?” I repeated, angry and impatient, lifting
him a few inches up off the ground and then forcing him back
down. I needed the answer before his heart gave out.

“She’s…” His breaths were short and labored as he tried
to look me in the eyes. The weight of my body crushing against
his chest didn’t make things any easier.

“She’s… you,” he wheezed with a wide-eyed gasp, and then his muscles released their tension. His clenched hands hit the ground and his heart stopped.

That was fast…

“Fool,” I sneered. He’d had no idea what he’d been speaking
about.

I stood and ran the tip of my index finger across my tongue.

Old blood. Disgusting.

My lips curled. It wasn’t worth it.

I stood and turned to walk away.

Wait.

Something drew my attention. He had reached across himself for something—but what?

My head shook.

Surely it meant nothing.

Still…

I returned to the body and knelt down beside it. A firm shove with both hands rolled him onto his stomach and I pulled his jacket off from behind. Then, I rolled him onto his side and wrapped my fingers around the edge of his sleeve, sliding it up and folding it over his shoulder.

The fabric wrinkled up across his skin, revealing the details of a large image. Wings, fire, elaborate colors of silver and blue with bright orange flames decorated a large gargoyle-like figure of a thin woman with bright colored eyes and a conniving grin.

A demon? She was elegant and seductive—colorful and intricately drawn. She was almost familiar, but I could not remember where or how I could have seen such an image before. My fingers traced the edge of one of the demon’s wings, pressing a crease into the man’s skin.

A violent buzzing sound filled my ears. I fell back and covered them with the palms of my hands. The buzzing was repetitive. I moaned, hearing it over and over again. I was unable to focus on reality as my hands tingled with the soft sensation of a gentle buzz within them.

A vision of my fingers tracing the woman’s wings across the man’s shoulder clouded my mind. The colors were powerful and intense to me even in the darkness and I could see
vividly what they had looked like the day they had been used.

What’s happening to me?

Kathera?

I could hear the name again and again. Someone was using it to call me.