Destined to Dream, page 28
It’s a sea of blood, and from what I can gather, it looks like we lost three shifters and ten vamps. It’s horribly tragic, all of that loss for nothing, but a sick, still human part of me is impressed. Most of the attacks that happen are only a handful of vamps and can leave a dozen or more dead in their wake. With two dozen, it’s the biggest nest I’ve ever heard of, and only losing three men is nothing short of a miracle.
But praising miracles feels an awful lot like making your peace with your lot in life, grateful that something terrible didn’t turn out worse and being afraid to wish for more. A dying loved one that wakes up. A disease being cured. A missing person being found. When it comes down to it, we’re willing to overlook all of the pain and suffering that was endured by pretending that death is the worst thing that can happen to a person. A miracle is nothing more than a name for intense relief when you’re tired of fighting or scared and something changes to take that terror away.
The surviving families of the three dead people on that field sure don’t look at this as any sort of miracle.
A massive black blur comes barreling into the clearing, Kasen shifting back at the base of the stairs and taking them in two strides. Unperturbed by the fact he’s butt-ass naked, he yanks me away from Malcolm and smashes me against his chest in a hug so tight, my head very well might pop off. He doesn’t say a single thing, and really, he doesn’t have to.
I get it. We simply stand there as I struggle not to cry, because gods, I missed this. Missed them. Beck kept me sane and I love him, but I love them too, and finally being back together seems to amplify how much was missing over the last week while we were all hanging on by a thread.
“Mr. Crawford,” maybe-Vice interrupts, features hard with determination. “If you could describe where the entrance to the nest is for us, I’d like to get this handled while the vamps are still contained.”
Clearing my throat, I pull away from Kasen, but he has such a firm grip, it’s clear I won’t be going more than two steps away from the man for the foreseeable future. “I’ll show you the way.”
“Bull-fucking-shit,” Beck spits, using the rail to try and get to his feet.
“Absolutely not,” Malcolm snaps, narrowing his eyes and looking like he might say fuck it and drop the shield to put me in a prison-bubble instead.
Kasen simply tightens his hold, not objecting, but making it clear that he could throw me over his shoulder with very little effort. Taking a deep breath, I tear my gaze away from the mourning widows, another appearing to hover between the other two fallen shifters, and look Beck right in the eye with a sad half-smile of resignation.
“You know as well as I do that we took a lot of twists in those tunnels. They’ll be wandering around for ages and Malcolm can’t hold the shield forever. You really want me to be here when it breaks and all of those vamps are loose again? To let them eat your stupidly hot face while you’re a sitting duck?”
He glares. “Don’t manipulate me.”
“Don’t be so fun to play with, then.”
He doesn’t buy into my teasing. “We almost died down there, Scar.”
“Actually, we were much closer to dying up here. If anything, it’s safer in the tunnels right now.” Softening my expression, I crouch down and softly press my lips to his. “Let me do this, okay? Kasen will be with me. We’ll be able to talk to you both the entire time, and we’ll be with people that have more experience handling these situations than any of us do. I’m not saying it’s safe, but doodling them a map and waiting here next to the hornet’s nest with our fingers crossed isn’t either. Your leg is broken, otherwise I wouldn’t have offered, because it wouldn’t be necessary. But it is, and you know it too, even if we wish it wasn’t.”
I sigh. “I can’t do much, Beck. I’m not a great fighter. I’m not just fucking broke, I’m broken. My great contribution today was being a bloody lunatic and holding a door closed while other people died. But I can play tour guide and tell myself that I helped give the people inside that cabin a chance at a second life and the ones out here can watch them become lucid and understand that there’s actual hope. Don’t take that away from me just because you’re scared to have me out of your sight.”
He tears his gaze from mine and glares up at the roof. “It’s not that. I’m afraid of what it’s going to put you through to be back there again.”
“He can’t get in my head anymore. He’s dead, and originals can’t just control any vamp they’re close to.”
He scoffs. “I’m not worried about that. You know damn well that I’m louder than any bastard that tries to get in your head. I’m afraid of what it’s going to do to you to look at him. The memories it’s going to drag to the surface. You don’t scream every night anymore, Scar, but you talk in your sleep. You cry and make the most heart wrenching noises. You beg for him to let you go and it fucking kills me. It’s been less frequent in recent weeks and I can’t stand the thought of this putting you back there in your head.”
I purse my lips, because this sure as shit is news to me. I’d been proud and thrilled with how far between the nightmares had gotten and thought I was making progress.
He thinks so too, that’s why he’s worried.
Releasing a long, slow breath, I accept the fact that Malcolm and Kasen are unintentionally eavesdropping because I’m shit at mental shields, so I include them in my statement. “I want closure. He may not be the one that used me, but it still feels like justice, as much as that’s me projecting my issues.”
After a few silent arguments that they’re clearly blocking me from, Kasen leads me down the steps, and I don’t turn back to look at Malcolm or Beckett. If I do, I might break seeing their concern, and right now, I’m tired of being afraid. I’m tired of hurting, and I’m tired of... everything, really.
Life’s so fucking unfair and we’re expected to simply be grateful that the hand we were dealt isn’t as bad as someone else’s. It negates not only our suffering, but everyone’s until universally, we’re convinced to accept our lot in life so we don’t fight for more.
I don’t want more, can’t handle another fucking thing being thrown at me. I just want people to actually give a shit and try to save other people from going through what I did. That would be the real miracle; getting people to care about anyone besides themselves.
Shifters have that sense of community though. Mages put on a cynical front, but they want that too. Maybe we need to erase the term ‘basic human decency’ from the dictionary and acknowledge that human behavior isn’t something that should be emulated.
The trek back to the creek is made without a word, only the wind whipping through the trees, the crack of thunder, and our hasty footsteps across the forest floor keeping it from being completely unnerving silence. The ten military men scan our surroundings constantly without a blip of emotion to the point I honestly envy them. They know how to flip the switch and compartmentalize. They know how to ignore the trauma until it’s safe to break down. I’d give my left tit for that ability right now, because as I stare at the hole I know we need to crawl into, my entire body locks up for a few seconds.
“You don’t need to do this, angel,” Kasen murmurs, snapping me out of my paralysis.
“Yeah. I do.”
Naturally, four of the strangers go first to clear the area, and once Kasen realizes it’s a decent drop, he insists on going before me so that he can catch me. Not a single person bats an eye at him striding around in the buff, and it hits me how different people can be raised.
I was raised to question every decision and still fail the societal standard of expectations, and everyone else in this cavern was raised to embrace who they are without shame, even in a world where most people despise them.
Six men take the lead with Kasen and I in the center, the other four behind us. Any time the tunnel splits off, I gesture towards the path we need to take. The only sound comes from our footsteps and the trickling of water, giving everything the ominous feeling of walking to the gallows. When we finally reach the central chamber and pool, I turn to the tunnel that the first vampire appeared in, watching Beck and I sleep.
“That one, I think,” I whisper while pointing. “We didn’t go down it, but I’m ninety percent sure that’s the way.”
They nod, and two of the men behind us join those in front as it becomes apparent we’re wading into uncharted territory. We follow it around a curve before it takes a sharp decline. With a steadying breath, we head into the oppressive darkness, leaving the faint, glowing water behind. I shamelessly tighten my grip on Kasen’s hand and step closer to him. My thundering heart beat might give our location away, but there’s nothing I can do about it, and I release a slow, relieved breath when I realize that I’m not alone in that.
The others might appear unaffected, but that doesn’t mean they are. They’re just better at hiding it than I am, but there are certain tells where our body simply betrays us despite our best efforts. And right now, there’s no hiding the sound of their rapid heartbeats either.
Several flashlights click on, mounted to the sides of their tranquilizer guns, and illuminate the tunnel. A man in front raises his fist, signaling for us all to stop. He gestures for two men to follow him around the next bend and after several shots, one returns to beckon us forward. We step around a few slumbering vampires, and if they’re still in the nest while the rest are out, and this deep nonetheless, they must be here for a reason.
A final line of defense.
I’m not sure what I expected to see, but it wasn’t a set of milky eyes trained on my face the second I rounded the corner. Even with all of the threats in the room, those eyes stay trained on me as if tracking my movements, despite the fact he’s clearly blind, or at least close to it after two hundred years trapped underground. He doesn’t need to see in the darkness when he can see through the eyes of those under his control, and with as much blood is coating me, there’s no way he can’t smell me.
Sallow, wrinkled skin is barely covered in filthy sweatpants and a stained t-shirt, but they’re not the torn rags most vampires run around in. His long, grey hair is a greasy mess that hands to his shoulders in matted tangles as he simply sits on a pile of old blankets, staring at us. But despite the unnerving coloring of his eyes, he doesn’t stare blankly. It’s like he’s watching, waiting for the inevitable and choosing to face his fate with his head held high.
A warning sound rumbles through Kase’s chest as he pulls me closer into his side, tucking me slightly behind him. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
One of the men behind us grunts. “Preaching to the choir. Never gets easier, but it’s like this one’s already given up.”
Vice whistles low. “Damn, I bet if I brought Evie this one, she’d let me try that thing after all.” Kasen and I give him a look that questions his sanity while one of the men to our left snorts.
“Live test subjects give his girl lady boners,” he explains.
Vice cocks his head as he stares at the unflinching original. “Most of them go down swinging, but this one may as well be asking us to put him out of his misery.” He shakes his head with a sigh and withdraws his handgun from the holster on his hip, passing his tranq gun to the man behind him. “But Ash would lose his shit if I brought an original home. Guy owes me one, that’s for damn sure,” he grumbles, aiming the gun directly at the ancient vampire’s forehead.
He lifts his gun and fires, the shot echoing around the cave. My eyes widen, the original still sitting in the same space as before, but a chunk of rock missing behind his head. “He really moved that fast?”
“We’re leaving,” Kasen declares, not giving any room for debate on the subject. “You showed them where he’s at, but you’re just going to have to get your closure in therapy like the rest of us.”
Those unblinking eyes are still locked on me even as the original dodges another two shots, rolling to one knee with his foot braced behind him.
“Sounds fair to me.”
Without an ounce of protest, the men behind us part so Kasen and I can sprint back toward the tunnel. Shots ring out around us along with a steady stream of cursing. We make it all of ten steps before Kasen shoves me forward, shifting in a blink and using his bulk to intercept the vampire.
The sound that comes out of his maw shakes the cave as he lands a hit on the original, his claws tearing into the man’s cheek and sending him slamming into the side of the tunnel. He rolls at the last second, and the tranq dart that was fired at him goes sailing through empty air before embedding in Kasen’s paw.
“Oh, come on!” I shriek in frustration, glaring at the men that fucking trained for this sort of shit.
I yank it out of Kasen’s foot and throw it on the ground. He doesn’t shift back, buying himself more time before he’s knocked on his ass due to his size. He shoves me behind him like a living shield, but even now, his movements are sluggish. It’s harder for the others to fight in the tunnel, the chances of someone else getting caught in the crossfire increasing with every passing movement. A few of the men shift while others draw wicked looking hunting knives, holding their own, but not making much progress on anything other than herding the vampire past us back towards the cavern with the pool and leaving us in complete darkness.
“I’m going to kill that idiot,” Kasen groggily slurs as he collapses on his stomach at my feet.
“Not if I beat you to it.” Grumbling, I fill in Malcolm and Beck, knowing not only are they’re going to be pissed as fuck, but I’m in for a lifetime of ‘I told you so’s.
“I knew this was a horrible idea,” Malcolm seethes before going on a pissed off tangent I didn’t know he was capable of.
“Can you get back here?” Beck demands, angry, but keeping more of a level head than Malcolm.
“They’re herding him back the way we came. Kasen’s passed out and there’s no way I’m going to be able to drag him like this. I have no idea if the cave the original was shacked up in lets out anywhere else, but I doubt it. I think we’re better off staying put until they ki- fuck!”
A small scuff of dirt is the only warning I get before there’s a hand wrapped around my throat and lips whispering in my ear. “You’re not one of mine.” He grips both of my wrists in one of his hands that he slams into the wall above my head. “But you’ll do nicely.”
I’m floored that someone that’s centuries old is this fast instead of an inch away from death’s doorstep. The way Vice and the others were talking, they were blindsided too, I just don’t know why.
Teeth rake along my shoulder and I stop breathing. He can’t change me, so he can’t control me. But the theory we’ve been going on starts to crumble to dust with every passing second.
Changed vampires can’t re-infect someone that’s already been turned and key them into the pack link that lets their original to control them. Just like Beck or Kasen could tap us into the link, but even though Malcolm and I are included in the loop, we can’t add anyone else. They broke their pack links with their families before coming out here and creating a new one.
If they can do that, originals should be able to as well. They had to change their first minions, after all.
Beams of light bounce around the tunnel as a few men come down, but they stop in their tracks at the sight before them. The original readjusts his position to his hand threatening to crush my windpipe as he rasps, “I don’t know about you, but I bet I could tear her throat out before you could get a shot off.” Warning growls reverberate around us that I can feel deep in my bones.
“Let the girl go,” Vice demands. “You’ve made your point. You’re better than us, is that what you want to hear?”
A dark chuckle escapes the vampire, his fetid breath on my face making me gag. “The only thing I want to hear is you leaving my home, and me in peace. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Nothing wrong?!” someone spits, taking a step forward before one of his friends puts a hand to his chest to stop him. “You’ve killed gods only know how many people!”
His lips curl into a cruel sneer. “I’ve killed no one. Not even any of you when I easily could have.”
Vice’s face and neck are turning red. “You sent your minions to slaughter and change people to recruit them into your twisted little cult so you-”
“Wouldn’t be gunned down for hunting fair game?” he challenges. “The same prey your kind is free to feast on, but the moment one of mine appears, they’re savagely torn apart?”
An incredulous scoff. “Yeah, ‘cause the vamps are going after rabbits, not fucking cities.”
“My kind!” he screams, raspy voice cracking from so much abuse when he likely hasn’t spoken in ages. “The first. The ones that went through the change at the same gods forsaken time as the rest of them; the first mages and shifters. One day we were human and the next we needed blood to survive, but while you all were accepted, we were condemned as monsters. Hunting grounds were taken by the shifters until we were starving and had no fucking choice to find another source so we wouldn’t starve to death! You think we like living like rats while the world tries to forget that we exist? That I enjoy the fact I can’t hunt down a deer myself to sate me because I’d be murdered on sight?” His voice is a harsh whisper. “That I’m forced to see the world go by through the eyes of others like enough wasn’t stolen from me already?”
“What the fuck is happening, Scarlett?!” Malcolm and Beck demand, but I can’t concentrate enough to answer them as I focus on every twitch of muscle the vampire makes, searching for an opportunity.
Everything is tense, but by the guns trained on him, they aren’t buying into the speech in the slightest. The pressure increases on my windpipe, and I barely manage to gasp out, “Vice, he’s not bluffing.”
Lips pursed, he reluctantly lowers his weapon, setting off a chain reaction of the other men following his lead. The original doesn’t look pleased in the slightest, nor does he ease up on his grip, but he doesn’t increase it either.
