CHAPTER 4
Xavier was merely a dark shadow against the bark of the tree, a shadow that Braith could barely differentiate from the woods. He’d spent a hundred years in the dark, had thrived in it when others would have failed, but the near darkness now was a stark reminder that he’d lost the only thing that mattered to him. And he’d lost her because he was an idiot, a fool. He’d lost her because of some bitch that he’d tossed from the palace for abusing Aria in the first place. He should have killed Lauren instead of allowing her to live.
In truth, he was the one that had caused this awful mess. He knew that, he despised himself for it, but he couldn’t change it now no matter how much he would like to.
He swore that if he ever got her back he would spend the rest of their lives trying to alleviate the impact of his sins. He would make this up to her, if he could, if she could ever forgive him, and if they didn’t destroy her first. The red haze of his vision darkened as he fisted his hands in frustration.
Stay in control, he reminded himself. Stay in control, it’s the only way you’ll get her back alive. Stay calm. They had to be prepared, if there was any chance of getting her back, of winning this war they had to be prepared, or they would fail.
It was nearly impossible to remain composed though. His skin was crawling, there was a fire boiling in his belly. He knew that he was on the verge of completely unraveling and letting the monster within take over. His fangs tingled with the urge to drive them into the necks of his father, his brother, and every other person that ever touched her. He craved their deaths with a ferociousness that he had never experienced before. He wanted their bodies littering the ground at his feet, and he wanted it now.
If he wasn’t certain he would be killed before he could get to her, he’d have gone after her without the rest of them. If he thought they would set her free in exchange for him, he would gladly walk up to the palace gates and hand himself over. He would gladly die for her, but his death would do nothing to save her from this, and she would never forgive him for ruining everything they had worked so hard for. Truth be told, he’d never forgive himself either. There were too many lives at stake, too much was at risk. There were people that he cared about…
That was the worst part of it all. He had come to care for them. Ashby pissed him off, but Melinda loved the idiot and he wasn’t entirely obnoxious. Jack infuriated him to no end, but he was still his brother and Braith had always been fond of him. He’d even come to like and admire Aria’s family. He couldn’t let them all down. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy the only chance at happiness and peace that they’d ever hoped to attain, that Aria had ever hoped to attain. She would forgive him for not coming for her immediately, he knew that, but she would never forgive him if he ruined everything.
Aria was alive; he could feel it in his bones. By now his father had realized that she was important to him, he’d probably detected his blood inside of her, seen the marks Braith had left upon her skin. He would use her against Braith; he would torture her until she was broken beyond repair, but Braith knew his father would hold out on the worst of that torture until Braith was present. He would intend to make sure that Braith witnessed the worst of what was done to her. At least that was the hope that Braith clung to, otherwise he knew he would leave these woods and go to the palace now. Otherwise, he would ruin everything and Aria would be lost.
He wouldn’t allow that to happen to Aria, even if it meant giving himself over to the darkness that lurked within him, and was so close to consuming him now. He just had to keep it at bay until they were ready to move. He could give into the darkness when he found his father and brother; he could let it rule him in order to destroy them. Maybe, if he and Aria both survived, he would be able to salvage whatever was left of himself after.
He felt no compunction about killing his father and brother. They wouldn’t feel any about torturing him, killing him, and making the only thing he cared about suffer. The only difference was he would make their deaths quick, they wouldn’t return the favor with him.
“What do you know?” Braith demanded.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play stupid with me Xavier. You know more of our history, and of the human’s history than any of us. I see the way you watch Aria, the way you study her. If I thought it was because you had any interest in her as a woman I would have put a stop to it long ago, but we both know women are not what you desire. I know you’re not watching her because it’s me you’re interested in.”
“How do you know that?”
“Xavier,” Braith’s patience was reaching its end. Whatever crush Xavier may have had on him had vanished years ago when Xavier had accepted the fact that Braith wasn’t interested in men.
There was a minor rise in his shoulder that Braith took as a shrug. “You are a good looking man…”
Braith leaned into him, causing Xavier to take an abrupt step back into the tree behind him. “Do not play with me Xavier. There is no one, and nothing, I will not go through to get her back. I am in no mood for your devious games or your manipulations.” Xavier didn’t cower before him but Braith sensed the vampire’s trepidation. “What do you know?”
“I don’t know anything.”
Braith’s hand slammed into the tree. Xavier’s followers would be irate if he killed him, they may leave, they may even turn on him, but he was getting to the point where he would willingly take that in order to assuage some of his fury. He didn’t think he could survive much longer like this. He was going to snap; like a bow string wound to tight he was going to break. He just didn’t know what was going to happen when he did, or how many he would take with him.
“There are some things I suspect though,” Xavier continued calmly.
“Xavier, not now.”
It took all of his patience to deal with Xavier’s roundabout way of explaining things. Xavier seemed to sense this as he grasped hold of his arm. “You have to keep it together Braith, there are far more lives at stake here than hers.”
“Why do you think I’m still here? Why do you think I haven’t gone after her, yet? But you have to tell me what you suspect.”
Xavier bowed his head. “Keep in mind that I truly know nothing for sure. I would like to speak with her father.”
“Fine, but what is it…”
Braith broke off as something else caught his attention. He released the tree he’d been so desperately grasping as he moved toward the edge of the hill. Below him the forest spread out in a blur of dark shapes and mounds. Amongst the solid objects, shadows moved and coalesced as they glided through the trees. He heard the approach of the others, but he didn’t have to turn to know that Gideon was in the lead. His step was somewhat louder than Ashby’s slighter frame and Jack’s more experienced movements. William, Daniel, and David barely made any noise as they approached; it was their scents he picked up instead of their sounds.
“They’re coming,” Gideon stated flatly.
“They are,” Braith agreed.
“We should retreat to the caves until they move past.” Braith folded his arms over his chest as he leaned back. The shadows moved through his blood red haze, he could barely see them slinking through the trees as they climbed steadily up the hill. Jack stood behind him, while Gideon moved to the front. “There are at least fifty of them,” Gideon remarked.
“We’re here to start a war,” Braith reminded him. “Do you propose we retreat every time there is a threat?”
“We do not want to confirm our presence in these woods.”
“He knows that we’re here anyway, why else do you think there are fifty some-odd soldiers creeping through the woods right now?”
“I don’t understand why there are so many,” William muttered. “They only saw four of us in the town.”
Gideon folded his arms over his chest as he pondered the hill before him. “Perhaps Aria told him there were more here.”
“She’d never do that!” William retorted.
“You don’t know what goes on in that palace, what the king is capable of.”
“No!” Max stormed forward. He thrust his finger into Gideon’s chest, startling the older vampire into taking a step back. “You don’t know what goes on in there, and you don’t know Aria. She wouldn’t tell them anything, she’d die before she ever put any of us in jeopardy!”
Gideon grasped hold of Max’s finger and thrust it away. “Don’t touch me!”
“Enough,” Braith barked as he stepped between them. “It’s my blood that has drawn them out, that has alerted the king to my presence within these woods. He suspects that we are here for a reason, but he has no way of knowing how many are with us. Send most of the humans to the caves; they can decide who amongst them remains outside. I want most of our troops to remain hidden. If any of the king’s men survive I do not want them to be able to report the extent of our force back to the king.”
“And if we lose some of our own?” Gideon wasn’t as much of a shadow as the soldiers creeping through the forest, but Braith couldn’t clearly make out his features.
“It’s a war Gideon, we will lose some of our own,” he snarled. “Get the humans into the caves. You can come back,” he added before William could protest.
William nodded and rushed into the woods. “What about you Braith?”
“What about me?” he demanded of Ashby.
“Your vision…”
“Is fine.”
“Your vision?” Xavier shouldered his way through Jack and Ashby. “What about your vision?”
“Its fine,” Braith insisted.
Xavier seized hold of Braith’s arm when he went to turn away. “Is it tied to her?” Xavier demanded. Braith ripped his arm free of Xavier’s grasp. “I had assumed your eyes had finally healed over the years, but was it her blood that brought your vision back?”
“Xavier…”
“Answer me Braith!” Xavier’s voice was high; there was a tone to it that bordered not on consternation, but rather disbelief, maybe even enthusiasm.
“No, it wasn’t her blood.”
“Oh.”
Xavier seemed to deflate before him but there was something about the vampire’s reaction that piqued Braith’s curiosity. Something that made him decide to reveal more, and what difference did it honestly make anymore? Most everyone standing here already knew his vision was linked to Aria, the ones that perhaps didn’t were her family.
“It was because of her though.”
There was a shifting amongst the bodies and judging by the smell, it was Max that stepped forward. “What do you mean?” Xavier demanded.
“Her presence, just being there, was what brought it back. She was dirty and disheveled, but she was the most beautiful thing I’d seen in a hundred years as she stood there waiting to be auctioned off.”
David inhaled sharply, Xavier muttered something that sounded like a prayer, and Max took a step closer to him. “When Jack took her from the palace, I lost my vision again.”
“But you can still see now?” Xavier pressed. “As well as when she is around?”
Braith’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “No, I cannot. I only see shadows and blurs. It’s more than I could see before I encountered her, but far less than when she is with me.”
Xavier grasped hold of his arm, his fingers dug into Braith’s flesh. He could sense Xavier’s intense scrutiny as he tried to search past the glasses. He felt Xavier’s hand grab the frames but Braith jerked his arm free and knocked Xavier’s arm aside when he tried to tug the glasses off his face. Xavier was thrown slightly off balance but he caught himself and straightened to look at Braith again. “Don’t,” Braith growled.
“Both of you don’t,” Jack inserted. “In case you’ve forgotten we have company.”
Though Braith knew he should be concerned about the men in the woods, his attention remained focused on Xavier as he strained to bring the vampire into view. It was extremely frustrating not to be able to read the subtle nuances of Xavier’s face, not to be able to guess at what Xavier was getting at. He desperately needed to know what it was that Xavier suspected.
But Jack was right, they did have company and Braith was itching for a fight. He was itching for blood. He wanted to take his fury and frustration out on someone, and the king’s soldiers were a good start. He slipped soundlessly through the trees with the others, keeping an eye on the shifting shadows as he honed in on his prey. He thought he should be apprehensive about the thrill, the excitement and bloodlust that coursed through him, but he wasn’t. He’d do whatever it took, become whatever was necessary, to get her back. He didn’t care who he had to destroy in order to do it.
Crouching behind a tree, he closed his eyes against the distracting shadows. Drawing upon the senses he’d honed during his hundred years of blindness, he was able to get a clearer picture of what was going on around him than if he had been using his broken eyes. His ears alerted him to the approach of the men, his nose picked up their scent long before they reached the crest of the hill. He was as still as stone as he listened and waited for the soldiers to move closer.
Then, as the men rounded the top of the hill, and all he knew was the darkness that the world had become, he slipped from behind the tree and descended upon the men like an avenging demon. Something he feared he might actually become. He felt dark enough to be one, felt hollow and hate filled enough to have come straight from the depths of hell. Even before he grabbed hold of the first soldier, he knew there would be no survivors.
As he drove the first soldier into the ground, he realized that he hadn’t slipped into the darkness that a demon would possess. He’d slipped into the darkness that the king possessed. What was inside of him now was what he’d often seen reflected in the eyes of his father. The worst part, he realized as he destroyed first one vampire, and then another, was that he didn’t care. He welcomed it, embraced it, and relished in the death around him as it briefly calmed his tormented spirit.