(Excerpt #2 from Withered, the bridge novella between The Kings and Monsters)…
The mirror was old, and part of it was chipped. Time had darkened a good portion of it, and the frame was cracked where it sat on the workbench in the large garage. But it was still a mirror, and it served its function when it showed David what he was expecting to see. He pulled the collar of his shirt and jacket down on the right side to reveal a tattoo across the top of his corded shoulder.
The tattoo was a pair of scythes crossed beneath a skull like a Jolly Roger with a gothic twist. It was expertly done, careful and intriguing like every tat on any of the Monsters members. They didn’t settle for anything less than the best, not in anything. But this work of art was special.
David Sharpe slowly traced his thumb across one of the scythe blades. It had been inked-in to cover something, a dark moon-like birthmark. Once upon a time, what felt like another lifetime, the mark had been dark red. He was born with it.
It had changed the night he’d died and come back. Along with his soul, it had grown darker, shifting into a charcoal gray. Now it was black and hidden.
But he knew it was there and he always would. Because it defined him. It was what made him a monster. It was the reason he was standing there in front of that mirror, staring at a reflection that all but shoved that fact back in his face.
The man staring back at him wasn’t the one his friends and family had once known. The emerald eyes he’d been born with were a light jade now, far too light to be natural. His skin was pale, but in life, he’d loved the sun. His hair had darkened from sun-streaked blonde to nearly black. He’d grown two inches in height, put on nearly ten pounds of pure muscle, and most alarmingly, he’d acquired a strict and dangerous diet – and the slightly elongated, distinctly sharpened incisors to help him obtain it.
The reflection infuriated him, reminding him of all he’d lost and would probably never have. And suddenly, David was hauling back, his hand curled into a fist, to drive it into the glass of the mirror. But before his knuckles could connect, his wrist was grabbed in a strong, solid grip.
The punch stopped an inch short, and David glanced to his right as his eyes laced through with lightning. He found himself staring into eyes that were so similar to his in color, most humans automatically assumed they were birth brothers.
Jacob Crow tilted his head toward the mirror. “That’s our last one.” He held David for a few seconds more, the vampire’s power wrapping around his clan brother with a strength he didn’t usually exude. Jake’s eyes searched his. “It’s the new kid, isn’t it?” Jake asked him calmly. “It’s got you thinking… remembering.”
David blinked. He was right.
The discovery of Poe Tessla and his “withering” had David on edge. On the one hand, he felt sorry for the kid; Tessla was going to have to get used to a daily regimen of magic spells and cautionary wards to get through his new existence. He would have to feed… if he didn’t, his mere presence would make those he cared for most – those he desired most – feel sick. Dizzy. Weak. They would end up instinctively pulling away from him, and he in turn would wind up withdrawing from the people who could have helped him the most.
David knew this better than anyone.
To say nothing of having to learn how to deal with the smell and the pain. And then there was the Veil…. Tessla would be able to see past that now. It could be highly unsettling.
But on the other hand, David couldn’t help but wonder how many like him there actually were out there. Was Tessla just the beginning? Were there dozens of Withered? Hundreds? If so – why?
He nodded, just once at Jake’s suggestion. “Yeah, guess so.”
Jake let go of his arm. But a tingling sensation remained, a handprint of the man’s power. Dave glanced down at his arm and his gaze narrowed. He was pretty sure Jake didn’t realize how much vampire magic he was leaking.
Clearly distracted, Jake smiled a tight smile, patted him on the shoulder, and turned away, running a hard hand through his raven-black hair. David watched him go, his expression thoughtful as he scrutinized his best friend and clan brother. There was a definite energy coming off Crow, sharp and jagged. Dave had often felt Jake get angry over the years. Hell, they all lost their cool from time to time.
But this was new. David wasn’t sure he’d ever felt anything quite like it. So he decided to tread carefully.
He moved away from the mirror, watching Jacob closely as the vampire strode to one of the cars in the garage. The building housed three cars at the moment, and seven bikes. Six bikes were out, their Monsters clan riders on jobs. The cars belonged to their leader and two of the clan members. One of the cars was Crow’s, a ’64 Pontiac GTO. It had been his before he’d been… cursed. Now he kept it here and messed with it from time to time, but it was his bike he used for everything else.
The hood of the jet-black Pontiac was propped open. The vampire leaned against the front of his car, peering into the open engine. David knew he wasn’t actually seeing anything inside.
Without turning back to look at David, Jake said over his shoulder, “Look at it this way, Sharpe. At least you know you aren’t alone anymore.”
“No,” agreed David as he slid his hands into his front pockets. “I’ve got the company of a genius teenager and a seriously dodgy warlock.” He stopped and considered that. “Actually, the warlock isn’t even technically marked.” The warlock he was talking about was Darryl Maelstrom, and though he appeared to have risen from the dead and possessed many of the same properties as David Sharpe and Poe Tessla, he bore no scythe birthmark. “So I guess that means it’s just me and the emo.”
Jake didn’t say anything. He’d braced himself on strong arms and gone very still as the air charged up around him. David stopped where he was and studied him. The energy radiating from him was growing stronger. Harder. Sharper. It was almost as if Jake were in pain.
“Something happen at the meeting?” David ventured cautiously.
No answer. But as he continued to watch, Jake’s fingers curled in, bending the metal beneath them as his grip tightened under vampire strength. David raised his chin and took a deep breath. Understanding dawned on him. I think I see.
“So… who is she?”
Jake’s head lifted.
David closed his eyes, nodded to himself, and took a deep breath. Bingo, he thought with a sinking feeling. None of the Monsters had been in love since the clan had been formed. Lust, sure. But this sensation Jake was exuding was just too strong for something so insignificant. And if he was right, it promised trouble. “You met someone at the sovereign meeting, didn’t you?”
Jake pushed off the car and straightened, but he didn’t turn around, and Dave was left staring at his broad back.
Jake said, “We’ll be meeting again tomorrow to form a plan for the job the sovereigns gave us. In the meantime….”
David waited, feeling the air thicken.
“Dave, I need you to do me a solid.”
David hesitated just a second before saying, “Yeah?”
“I need you to find everything you can on one of the wardens in the Vega clan.”
Oh shit, she’s a warden, he thought, as that sinking feeling turned to metal in his gut. Hell and damn. The number of very serious problems that could pose were positively endless. But he wasn’t surprised by Jake’s request. In another lifetime, a man named David Sharpe had been an expert in covert operations. He was the best in the Monsters clan at gathering intel.
“Alright,” he said, though he knew it meant untold amounts of conflict. Anything for a brother. “What’s her name?”
Jake smiled to himself and finally turned around. The fact that David knew it was a woman wasn’t lost on Jake. But he let it go. Instead, he said, “Angela Clemens.”
David digested the name. “Clemens.”
“She goes by Angel among friends.” Jake’s tone was lowering. There was hunger in it now; Dave knew him well enough to recognize that much.
David nodded. “And when you say ‘everything you can,’ you really mean it?” Dave’s look was serious. Every clan member had their talent. No one was as good at this as he was.
Jake’s gaze hardened, becoming shadowed. “I do,” he said, his voice harsh. His inhuman eyes fired up like lanterns. Fangs peeked from behind his lips as he added, “And then some.”