Scarlet Night (Limited Edition) (25 page)

The rasping voice of
the Taroe elder and his explanation of the curse the night he’d been given the tattoos echoed in his head. He let himself remember the pain he endured that night; the burning of the mystical ink as it was stabbed and scraped across his chest and back and arms while the Taroe tribe chanted in celebration of his punishment.

Maybe it would be best if he left. Maybe he could find a place where he couldn’t harm another; where the beast could destroy him and no more harm would have to fall on anyone else.

Maybe, in torturing himself, he could spare the world.

“Maybe I should
just go home.” Serena grumbled into the palms of her hands as Zoey did her best to soothe her.

“He’s really b
ecome
that
overcome by that curse then?” Isaac asked, looking at Zoey with a deepening frown.

Zoey sighed and nodded, leaning her forehead against his stomach as he stepped over to the two.

Serena bit her lip as she watched Zoey and Isaac’s interactions. Even in a moment of seriousness their body language spoke wonders. Though they’d only been together a short period of time, they seemed so happy already. So perfect!

She
scowled and looked away, holding back her envy.

“He was so angry! Even his eyes looked different!” she explained, “He kept trying to relax, but it just kept coming back!”

Zoey nodded slowly, “His rage is beginning to overwhelm him…”

Serena looked up, “He said that…” she frowned, trying to recall, “… that the curse wasn’t the cause of his rage. Is that right?”

“We can’t be certain of that,” Zoey shrugged, “None of us knew him before it happened. Gregori took him in after he found him trying to drink himself to death.”

“But vampires can’t get drunk…” Serena frowned and looked up.

Zoey nodded, sighing, “Yup. And
that
only served to fuel his rage further. So Gregori decided, since both you and your brother had left, that he could take Zane in and try to turn his life around.” She gave a gentle smirk, “To try to give him a fresh start on a new path.”

“Did it work?” Serena asked.

“More or less, I suppose.” Zoey shrugged one shoulder, “Zane certainly took to the training well, and it wasn’t long after that he began climbing the ranks as a clan warrior. That had
seemed
to turn things around, but as his fits of rage became rarer and rarer the curse became that much more sensitive to the slightest trigger.” She scoffed at a memory and shook her head, “He
destroyed
his first room—and this was a
nice
room, mind you! Gregori pampered him well—when he stubbed his toe on a door frame one night. By the time we’d gotten him sedated he’d already torn down the wall surrounding that door and most of the walls surrounding it for good measure. Gregori had scolded him later over how costly his temper was becoming.”

Serena frowned and looked down, remembering how Zane had lectured her about the cost of maintaining the clan. “So is his rage a side-effect of the curse, or is the curse piggy-backing on what was already there?”

Zoey frowned, “I’m certain that he had anger problems long before the Taroe put the curse on him—I’m guessing they saw it as a cruel irony to make his short fuse a
literal
one—but I also think that knowing what his rage was capable of after that made it that much harder to control.”

Isaac frowned, “Like when you
know
you shouldn’t think of something…?”

“Then that’s
all
you can think about.” Zoey nodded, “The curse has been eating away at him ever since, and every transformation has been just one more step towards having that thing take over him completely. That seems to be the bulk of the curse, to slowly destroy the victim from the inside by turning their worst trait against them.” She rubbed her forehead and winced, “If he’s so far gone—if the rage has consumed him
that
much—it may already be too late.”

“What do you
mean? What will happen to him?” Serena asked, panicking.

“The Taroe are tribes of m
agic practicing humans that have separated themselves from society. They live peaceful and self-contained lives and have, over time, developed a method of focusing one’s magical energies through an enchanted ink that they use to tattoo themselves. When one of them comes of age they’re given their first tattoo, and with every following year or every shift in the tribe’s rank more tattoos are added. Usually, the ink serves to channel the wearer’s thoughts to boost their power, but there’s something different in Zane’s case. The ink triggers from his rage and the magic starts the transformation, but his body wasn’t made for that sort of thing. While Isaac and other therions are naturally built to shift forms, Zane’s isn’t; so every transformation takes a greater and greater toll on him.”

Serena looke
d up at Zoey and shook her head, getting more and more irritated by the idea of somebody
willingly
doing this to Zane, “But what does Zane have to do with the Taroe? Since when do they get involved with our kind?”

Zoey shrugged, “Normally they never would. Most can’t even say they’ve found a Taroe tribe, much less been cursed by one. But while he
was
just a sang—and not even pure-born, at that—the curse has altered him. Though he shouldn’t be able to see or use any of his auric channels, he’s achieved auric feats in his beast form that most need years of training to accomplish. He can see in multiple spectrums; going beyond simple vision or seeing auras, but heat radiation, ultraviolet, gamma…” she shook her head, “When he becomes that thing there seems to be no limit. I watched him change in the middle of a fight against a gang of rogues, and in the middle of the chaos one of them took a sword to his leg! Cut it clean off from the knee!” She sighed, “And the damn thing just grew a new one right there. Then it made a note of using what the vampire had cut off to beat him to death. If it wants something badly enough, it adapts to find a way.”

“Oh my god…” Serena stared in shock at her friend, “B-but… why? Why give him that kind of strength?”

“Because strength without control is crippling.” Zoey sighed, “He can’t trust himself in a fight, because the moment
it
comes out there’s no control over who it kills. He’s already been seen as too much of a risk with other warriors from the clan who wouldn’t get within five meters of him! The power isn’t the curse, Serena, the curse is not being able to contain or direct it and having to live with the knowledge of what it’s done and the lives it’s ruined.

“In the end—when he turns back; when he becomes
Zane
once again—he’s no more powerful than he would have been before the curse. No auric control or enhanced vampire strengths. Just another sang that has to own up to something no sang should ever be capable of doing.”

“So the Taroes were willing to put so many lives at risk just to make Zane feel
guilty
?” Serena growled.

Zoey sighed and nodded, “It would certainly seem that way. I can’t vouch for either of them; I wasn’t there. I hadn’t even
heard
of something like this before, so I have to imagine it doesn’t happen too often. Whatever their intentions were, it worked, his mind’s beginning to break from the guilt and the torment on his body, and the only thing that seems to slow down the process is you.”

Serena’s eyes widened and she looked over, “Me? You mean that he’s never…” she frowned, “Why me? He didn’t even
know
me until the other night!”

“Either way,” Zoey stood up and stepped beside Isaac, “you seem to have some sway over it; something that
nobody
else has, and that makes you vital to our survival and his.”

“What
the hell am I supposed to do? I don’t think he’ll even
want
to talk to me after what just happened, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to face him knowing what he did to…” Serena frowned and looked down, still upset about the loss of Devon. Though she couldn’t put all the blame on Zane for what had happened, it was easier than the alternative.

“
I can’t tell you what to do, Serena. You’ll need to decide that. I just hope you can come to understand that he’s not a monster. He’s gotten that for far too long already.” Zoey took Isaac’s hand and she offered Serena a comforting though forced smile before they left to head back to their room.

“
Right… Thanks, Zoey.”

Serena sighed, thinking back to her memories with Devon and how he had always been there for her. She sighed and gazed down at the ring she still wore.

Rolling it on her finger, she felt a lump form in her throat as her body shook from the flood of memories; memories that she didn’t want—didn’t
need
—to remember anymore. She’d been using those memories and the biased emotions they carried as a crutch for too long in the past. Now, she had to look at the reality of it all.

Devon was gone now
.

Completely.

So what would he have wanted her to do?

She frowned at the question.

What would he
really
have wanted her to do?

In his final moments h
e had been so aggressive and uncontrollable—so
not
himself—in his struggle to get control of Zane’s body… and she’d fought him. Why? Just a few days ago she would’ve looked the other way and let Devon have
any
body he’d wanted—dead
or
alive—just so she could have him touch her again. But when it was Zane’s body he was after—Zane’s
mind
at risk—she had tried to stop him. Serena groaned and cupped her face in her hands again as she struggled with the realization that she wasn’t just in love with Zane’s body—hell, she’d been seconds away from having
that
all she wanted!—but that, for him in his entirety, she was willing to let Devon go.

Literally!

Years upon years of love and adoration and promise and effort put against several days of insults and banter and teasing and mocking.

And she’d chosen the latter…

She shook her head and cursed at herself.

When had she allowed herself to
become a monster?