Freak Show (23 page)

Hurst stepped into the warm candle light. He looked nothing like I’d pictured. Long black hair streaked with silver fell over his shoulders. Lines in his face indicated that he’d been a relatively old man at the time of his turning. A sharp, hawk-like nose gave him a beaked appearance that was somehow both cryptic and endearing. He sank into the chair across from me, gently settling himself like a sheet cascading down upon the bed on laundry day.

I bit my tongue, unsure if I should speak first. I chose to wait. Instantly, he mesmerized me. The air of prestige he commanded was intimidating. I was nothing but a dumb kid next to this guy.

“Alexa, hello.” With a twinkle in his hazel eyes, Hurst captured my hand in his and placed a respectful kiss across my knuckles. “I am happy to meet you.”

I stared at him in stunned silence. Where was the scorned sire I’d been expecting? The one who would tear a strip out of me for killing a vampire he had made.

“Please,” he continued. His voice was low and rough, as if he’d swallowed gravel. “Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm. I am quite delighted to meet Arys’s wolf. The underworld speaks of you often. You are known in many parts of the world.” That was news to me. Bad news potentially. Already I saw what Arys meant about Hurst’s tendency to know things others did not.

“I’m honored to be here, really. Just a little nervous. I’m sure you understand.” I sipped the latte, needing a way to keep my hands busy. It was hot, obviously. Burnt taste buds were nobody’s friend, but I sucked it up and drank it anyway.

“I’m afraid I don’t. You have no need to fear me, or anyone else, for that matter. You are a rare breed. The only one of your kind.”

“What does that mean?” I was afraid to ask questions, afraid of the answers.

Hurst studied me, and I tried desperately to keep from squirming under the massive weight of his stare. “No Hounds have walked in the world of the undead. None until you. I understand it must be incredibly difficult for you. Do you have any questions?”

I had many. Where to begin? I started with perhaps the most obvious, the one that nagged me. “Do you hate me for killing Harley?”

He laughed, a gruff sound I’d equate to that of a cement mixer. His gravelly voice was gentle, though, when he replied, “Not at all. It is very easy for the undead to forget that they are not truly immortal. They too can die. Harlan made his own choices. As did you. I feel only sadness that he learned so little in his time.”

Huh? Well that was interesting. What made it so puzzling was the way vampires like Jenner carried on about it as if I’d committed some great cardinal sin. Sure Harley was his maker but if Harley’s own sire saw it for what it was, why couldn’t the others?

“The vampires Harley sired don’t seem to feel that way.”

“They are immature, self-centered in their view of the world. Pay no mind to them.” Hurst’s eyes twinkled with age-old wisdom and knowledge of things I would never know. His aged appearance made it easy to forget he was vampire. “They all belong to you though they do not yet know that. In time you will all see.”

Whoa. What? His words brought to mind an incident from a year or so ago. A vampire had attacked me, swearing he’d rather die than bow down to me. A shudder racked me at the memory.

I felt calm in Hurst’s company. The vampire essence within me knew him. It gave me a strange but welcome reassurance.

“Arys thinks there is a particular reason you wanted to see me,” I hedged, hoping he’d take it from there.

Hurst gazed into the darkness lurking at the edge of the candlelight. Shelves of books lined every wall in the room, ceiling to floor. It was the most impressive library I’d ever seen.

“I have read every book in here. And a great many more as well. There is no greater power in this world than that of knowledge. Never forget that, Alexa.”

A cool breeze picked up, blowing my hair around my face. The shadows danced beyond the light, writhing and twisting into odd shapes. A book floated through the room, coming to settle between us in the center of the table. The front cover was nothing more than a mysterious symbol. It might have been a letter from an ancient language or a mark of some form of magic. Whatever it was, it began to glow.

“It knows you,” Hurst said, causing my stomach to drop. “It’s very old. A book of long buried secrets, it has been passed through only the hands of those who can read it.”

Gently, as if the pages might crumble at his touch, Hurst opened the book. It was written in an old language, one I did not recognize. I gripped my latte tight, afraid to let it go for fear it would spill.

“What does it say about me?” Oddly enough, the apprehension I’d been feeling was gone in the presence of the book. No longer did I fear the answer. How strange.

“It says many things about many beings. A Hound of God bound to the darkness is indeed one of them. It comes with a warning for you. Beware the angel with black wings.”

I pursed my lips, frowning at the book. It didn’t take a magic book to make me aware of the dangers of demons. I mean, hello, demons.

“I assume that means Shya.” I watched the book closely, wishing I could read it for myself.

“There is danger in assumption.” Hurst’s wrinkled hands caressed the pages affectionately. “What is it that you fear most?”

I had no response to that. I feared many things. Death at Arys’s hand. Failing to carry out the purpose we were created for. The loss of myself, my wolf.

“You have all that you need,” he continued. The candle flame flickered in his eyes, creating an eerie but intriguing reflection. “To save your wolf.”

I did a double take, blinking rapidly as if that would help me to hear his words again. “What do you mean?”

“It is already within your possession. It calls to you, a piece of the earth. A gift from a friend.”

Hope soared, taking flight as I pieced it together. “Lena’s amulet. Yes, I have it. What does it do?”

After Lena’s death, her daughter Brogan had given me the amulet. It had called to my wolf, vibrating with a joyful, earthy energy. Not knowing what to do with it, I had kept it safe, stored away in my house.

“Your friend foresaw much of what you would face, as many witches have. She gifted you with a piece of earth, enchanted for you and you alone. Wear it. All the time. Die with it on, and it will keep the wolf within you.”

Hurst spoke like a grandfather telling children fantastic stories of monsters and magic, things they would never believe. Or perhaps that was just how I felt, like one of those wide-eyed kids, peering at him in dazed wonder.

How had Lena possibly known what I would face? Sure, Arys and I had both encountered witches who knew of our bond and even our fate. Yet this was so outrageous, so hard to believe. Lena had been like a mother to me. Better than my own mother, in fact. To think that she had known, that she had done something so thoughtful for me, it made me want to weep.

“I must inform you, however, that the amulet will only save your wolf. It will not save your light. You sacrificed that part of you when Arys gave you his blood.” Hurst watched me closely. Too closely. “There is only one way to save your light. It requires a sacrifice from another. One willing to take your darkness for you.”

A heavy weight settled upon me. I stared at the book, and I detested it with every part of my being. What kind of a revelation was that? It was torment, that’s what it was. More torment to carry around inside me while I awaited my fate.

“Wow.” I let my gaze travel around the grand library. There were no words for what I was feeling. “I appreciate the information, but you should’ve let me keep thinking there was no way. That’s the kind of shit I’d rather not know.”

Hurst allowed me a moment to absorb that bombshell. With a gentle smile, he offered, “Ignorance may feel like a protective shell, but it is a cage. You must set yourself free.”

Did I have to?
I let out a breath in a huff and nodded. “It’s hard.”

“It is. I know. That’s why I wanted to share this with you. Before you return home. You have much to face yet. You must trust that you can.”

I drank the rest of my coffee, focusing on the sweet vanilla flavor. It was important for me to find pleasure in simple joys. Those little things were so easily overlooked in the face of greater chaos.

“What if I can’t? There’s all this talk of me leading vampires and werewolves. What does that even mean? Leading them where? To do what?” My words ended on a shrill note. All the latte bliss moments in the world couldn’t keep me grounded in the face of such uncertainty.

Hurst regarded me with a pensive expression. I found his wise, owlish quality to be both puzzling and comforting. Spending so much time cut off from the human world had to do something to the psyche. I could totally see myself ending up that way.

“There are those who see the future, and those who plan the future. Neither are guaranteed. Do not worry yourself with such things. In time, all things will be revealed. Your efforts are better spent on what is soon to come.” He patted my hand warmly. “Would you like more coffee?”

 “No, thanks. I’m good.” What a weird conversation. I was going to be replaying this one in my head for weeks. “And just what is soon to come? You talk like you know.”

Hurst clasped his hands together and settled back in his chair. He wore the scent of old books like a second skin. It tickled my nose, and I stifled a sneeze.

“There is much speculation regarding the demon whose mark you bear. The underworld feels he will soon make a move toward greater power. He is feared by many and subject to very few.” He paused, and this time he exhibited an air of reservation. “You and Arys must be on guard. He will do all he can to corrupt you both.”

I might have been new to this world compared to an old vampire like Hurst, but I wasn’t born yesterday. Warning me about Shya was like telling me the sky was blue. Of course, I appreciated the sentiment.

“He already is,” I sighed. “But thank you. I appreciate the warning.”

“I won’t keep you much longer. I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your twin flame. It pleases me greatly to hear how well you two have managed your union. It’s an honor to my bloodline.”

Despite my polite refusal, Hurst’s human assistant brought me another coffee and a plate of cookies. Not quite what I would have expected as the guest of a vampire, but I’d happily take it.

As I nibbled an oatmeal cookie, my stomach growled. Arys better have ordered that steak. I eyed Hurst with open curiosity. Making the most of our remaining time was essential.

“What is it about our bloodline that makes us so strong? Did it start with you?” I asked. Arys had never been able to answer that question.

“No, it did not.” Hurst stared off into the shadows. Something wistful passed across his face. “As you know, many vampires possess metaphysical attributes of varying degrees. Others possess none at all. Tales from the old world claim the origins of the vampire are linked to a deal made with the devil. Of course, there is no way of knowing for sure.”

I stared at him in wonder, my cookie forgotten in my hand. I gestured for him to continue.

“One folk story states that the first vampires were born of demon blood. A king with three daughters made a deal with the devil to preserve his children always by making them immortal. Or as immortal as a human can be. Another story agrees that the first vampires were created from demon blood but created to be an affront to God. More than human but less than demon, and all dark. A mockery of humankind created to prey on humankind. In both, the first generation of vampires each possessed different demon traits. Traits that have been passed on throughout the years as new vampires are made. Some theorize that the strengths of those traits vary based on the strengths of the individual, and I’m inclined to agree with that for the most part.”

I felt like a kid on Halloween listening to ghost stories. A strange chill crept through me as I processed his accounts. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard tales of vampires being linked to demons. That’s where the darkness came from. My body shook as the chill spread, freezing my very bones. I faced every night with a piece of that darkness living inside me. How would I ever be the same when it completely consumed me?

“Our bloodline is currently one of the most powerful in the western world,” Hurst continued when I failed to speak. “I’m sure you’ve seen evidence of that yourself.”

“I have,” I said softly.

“Which is why you must take care when turning a human. Like your wolf, some people cannot adjust to the power we command.” Hurst pushed the plate of cookies closer to me. He met my eyes evenly when he added, “Please give Arys a message for me. Tell him that he must not turn the young male witch.”