Blinding Light (The Bloodmarked Trilogy Book 2) (14 page)

Helen eyed me warily before glancing away. Wait, was she hiding something? I was not about to play this game with anyone again. “There’s more you’re not telling me, isn’t there?” I prodded.

She looked me in the eyes. “We need to be careful now more than ever. That’s all. Everything is escalating, and I’m positive the assassins are even more desperate to find you.”

“Are you sure there isn’t more?” I asked, my tone hardening.

“Yes. Nothing you need to worry about. You should begin with regular training. I’ve talked to Wade, and he’s agreed to supervise solo sessions. You can use the practice dummies for attack moves and work on defensive moves with him. I know you still struggle over your control, but I fear keeping you inactive is no way to fully prepare you. You must learn discipline through experience, but only at your own pace.”

“So you’re going to allow me to
train
to fight but not let me actually fight?” I asked blandly. Was this her idea of a concession? If she didn’t want me going outside, I wouldn’t be allowed to kill any real threats.

“Are you telling me you are ready to fight the First, Lucille?” she asked, matter-of-factly.

I opened my mouth to respond but closed it. The question caught me off guard. If she had asked me if I was ready to fight any regular vampire, I’d have told her to point me in the direction of the closest one. However, the mention of the First changed my answer, because I hadn’t considered the implications of what it might mean to go back out on the hunt. It wouldn’t just be killing lowly vampires like the old days. It would be sending out a flare, alerting the most powerful vampires on Earth that I was ready to fulfil my destiny. Was I ready for that?

The disastrous outcome of my previous encounter with the First’s drones replayed like a persistent
no
in my mind, beating me down until only the husk of inferiority remained, flecked with loss and weakness. Failure.

Helen spoke before my doubts could be voiced. “You will get your chance one day, but only when you have complete command over yourself.”

She left me standing there as I wrestled with my insecurities. I shoved them into that very large, dark part of my mind that no longer resembled a tiny lockbox but looked more like the hail-damaged vault in my training room.  It was time to show that vault who was boss.

After two hours, the thick metal resembled cottage cheese. I was going more for the Swiss cheese look. The only thing I managed to accomplish was opening the wounds from my past. My thoughts never wavered from my mistakes and eventually settled on Gavin’s face, rendering me immobile. My insides hollowed. I wondered if he missed me like I missed him.

Obviously not. He saw me as his responsibility, nothing more. I wondered then, did he still worry about my safety? Was he afraid the Big Bad Wolf has found me?

I was. Admitting it to myself for the first time was painful, but I could no longer afford to underestimate any enemy. I knew enough now to know that Shane was just a puppet on a string, but he was still dangerous. Each pull of those strings resulted in lethal consequences.

“Lucy!” Nick called from the door, snapping me out of my reverie. I turned away from the vault, banishing all negative thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Hurry up and get changed or you’re going to be late for the party.”

Party?

†

Music pulsed heavily through the corridors as I drifted toward the right wing of the mansion. Nick informed me these types of parties were common occurrences and allowed everyone to let off some steam while giving them some semblance of normality. I didn’t even try to hold in the laughter his words had provoked.

There was a time when I was still part human that I thought I might want a little normal in my life. It took transitioning into a full-blown mythological creature to make me understand that nothing about my life could or would ever be normal. Abruptly abandoning that notion has actually simplified things for me. I felt buoyant, even embracing my not-so-ordinary new life.

Rounding the corner to the great room, I jerked to a standstill. The sounds and smells threatened to overwhelm my senses. The sharp sting of alcohol burned my nostrils, while various perfumes and aftershaves competed for most abrasive scent in the room. Pulling back on my senses was getting easier, and I focused my nose on the least offensive scent in the room. Blessedly, I tuned the others out. If only my strength worked the same way.

When the crowd of people who hovered in the corner by the wet bar parted, slurred welcomes were issued, along with a few evil glares. The weight of my charms jingled before settling into place against my wrist. The simple brush of their cool silver eased some of my tension. They have become a type of safety blanket, a reminder of my past.

Nick pulled away from a table by the bar where a crowd had settled around a card game. “Hey, Lucy, want something to drink?” he asked, holding up a red plastic cup.

“Um, no. Alcohol doesn’t exactly go down smoothly.”

“I wasn’t offering alcohol,” he winked suggestively. “We could go somewhere a little more private if you’re thirsty.”

Before I did anything I might regret, Allison sauntered up to Nick and placed her hand on his chest. “Nick, why are you talking to the monster?”

She turned her hateful eyes on me. “You know everyone who’s nice to you is just afraid of you.”

“Back off, Al,” Nick hissed.

“What? She can’t take a little honesty? She’s merely another pathetic bloodsucker like the rest. Just because you all want to kiss the ground she walks on like she’s freaking Beyonce or something, doesn’t mean I have to like her. She walks around like her shit doesn’t stink.”

“Listen, princess, I know you hate vampires. I hate them more. Whatever crimes they’ve committed against you, I’ve experienced tenfold. Your issues are with them, not me. I am not your enemy. I’m not your biggest fan, but I am not one of
them
. Oh, and enough with that whole you think you’re better than everyone thing. I have, literally, never said that to anyone in my life. I wouldn’t want to run the risk of being called a liar.”

Her eyes lost a little focus, and she swayed to the side before Nick caught her around the waist. She searched for a comeback, but finally settled on, “I’m not scared of you.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”
Because I scare the shit out of myself.

Without waiting for a response, I left Nick to deal with a half-lit Allison and drifted over to the bar where Rachel and John stood chatting with some of the others.

“Hey, guys!” I shouted over the thumping bass.

“Hey!” they chorused. It wasn’t unfriendly. I was definitely making progress with the group.

“So this is what you do to unwind, huh?” I asked.

One of the guys I’ve seen around a few times named Max spoke first. “Yeah. It keeps us all from losing our shit.” I assessed him, taking in his black hair and features that hinted at an Asian descent.

“So who gets the alcohol?” I asked, knowing most of them were still minors.

“One of the older house members usually offers to make a run. Tonight, that honor went to Jada,” Max said, nodding toward the brown-eyed beauty, who I still haven’t officially met.

She offered her hand to me when I glanced her way. I shook it gently, but her aggressive squeeze left me reeling a bit. For a tiny wisp of a thing, she was strong. She looked barely legal with her wild dark curls and smooth caramel skin, but she cast me a knowing look that told me to think twice about underestimating her.

“Someone has to keep them distracted from the many other troubles they could wind up in,” she explained.

“And Helen doesn’t try to stop you?” I asked, not to be the stuffy adult in the situation. I typically avoided authority at all cost, but I was curious about the dynamics of the household.

“None of the adults care. They know they aren’t our parents, and they know the kind of crap we deal with on a daily basis. They understand when we need to unwind a bit, as long as no one gets hurt.”

“Right,” I replied, at a loss. I didn’t have the luxury of drowning my problems in a bottle, but I didn’t fault them for wanting to escape for a while. This life required a ton of sacrifice and wasn’t easy.

Searching for a new topic, I shifted to a neutral subject. “Where is everyone else? Where’s Sophie?” I asked, wondering why I hadn’t seen her or Wade yet, or Brody, for that matter. I was positive he and Nick had a bromance and were attached at the hip.

“Sophie is in the library. She mentioned some important finding she wanted to research further,” Rachel supplied. She propped herself against the bar, tipping a shot glass of something amber back. She was rocking the black jeans and tank top like nobody’s business but hers. The messy black hair and smoky eyes worked for her, and the metal ring circling her full bottom lip was hot. I think I had a girl crush.

Before I assimilated into full party mode, John spoke up and dropped a bomb that effectively killed the vibe. “The others are out on the hunt for the new arrival.”

“I’m sorry, the what?” I asked, stunned, my party bubble officially popped.

Rachel elbowed John in the ribs, the universal sign for shut the hell up. John looked oblivious.

“Someone better fill me in right now,” I demanded.

“Sorry, Lucy,” Rachel spoke first. “We weren’t supposed to say anything. There was a missing person in Thunder Bay and the others are keeping an eye on things around here, just in case.”

“You mean, in case they come looking for me?” I hedged.

“We don’t know much yet. It could have been a vampire just passing through the area who got a little hungry and sloppy, or maybe it was a real missing person case.”

“I don’t believe in coincidence,” I replied and turned on my heel to exit the party. Helen and I were going to have words. I knew she was keeping something from me. My growing suspicions were merited. That was strike one against her.

Hearing the tail end of a phone conversation confirmed Helen was in her office, so I let myself in. She glanced up as she deposited her cell on the desk and folded her hands on the tabletop, waiting for me expectantly. The action drew my attention to the newspaper articles littering her desktop, all proving the disappearance of a young man last night in the heart of the city. Scanning the pages, I picked out words like
signs of kidnapping
and
eye witnesses
but gleaned nothing useful from the vague reports.

“I should be hunting with them,” I said in my calm, big girl voice.

“Out of the question, Lucille. You know why you can’t. We can’t risk your exposure. It’s not time yet. If someone is getting close, then you need to stay hidden.”

Patience and rage warred inside me, always locked in an eternal battle for dominance. I used to favor rage as a means of instant gratification. Kill or be killed. It was simple, until I began to understand my enemies. Rage got the job done, but patience, as I’ve learned the hard way, could save lives. I just hoped rage wasn’t a vengeful opponent, because being the sore loser could produce equally fatal consequences.

Storming out of Helen’s office without another word, I stalked toward the library after a trip to the walk in cooler. I was desperate for a distraction, and I hoped that whatever new information Sophie found would provide one.

I found her pawing through musty texts at a far table by the windows. She was alone in a dark library with only the light of a single desk lamp, while everyone else was enjoying the party. But she looked content, completely happy and immersed.

“Soph!” I called from across the room before sliding into the seat opposite her. She only jumped a fraction of an inch out of her seat.

“Hey, Lucy,” she gasped, her heart rate kicking up a little dust after its jumpstart.

“Sorry. I was actually trying not to scare you by announcing myself,” I said, taking a long swig from my thermos.

“It’s okay. I guess I was a little consumed.”

“I heard. You’ve become a regular shut in today. What did you find out?”

“Here,” she said, reaching across the table to place a giant, ancient looking tome in front of me. “Earlier, I found this reference to the prophecy of the Shadow-marked immortals’ demise. She pointed out the line to review. “It started out the same as all the other references, but then it went on to state-”

“-A very powerful weapon designed to slay the immortal abominations that plague the earth with one swift strike,” I read aloud the part to which she must have been referring.

I skimmed through some of the garrulous text and continued. “It was entrusted to one devout warrior of Earth by a heavenly being. Blah, blah, blah,” I chimed, failing to see how this was helpful. I looked up at Sophie’s hopeful expression and sighed in frustration.

“Lucy, don’t you get it?” she exclaimed. “It’s the Sword of Michael!”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about it in old myths and legends, so I deduced as much, but how is that supposed to help?” I was no stranger to libraries, having logged several hours when I was younger and hungry for answers, so I’ve read all the stories about divine weapons.

“It’s an actual weapon forged from metal and empowered by the archangel himself,” she quoted excitedly.

“I get all that, but still not seeing the big picture. It can kill vampires. I can do that with any weapon,” I stated matter-of-factly.

“It can kill any immortal being with a single blow!”

“I’ve killed lots of vampires in one shot.”

“I’m not saying that you need it, per say, but with all these vampires scared of you and the prophecy, they might be looking for ways to kill you. Other vampires might want it to grow in power. Who knows what kind of chaos could erupt if it ended up in the wrong hands. I think we need to consider tracking it down, at the very least, as a precaution.”

Growing tired of all these wild goose chases I seemed to find myself in, I sagged in reluctance, ready for my own escape. I hoped sleep would come tonight. “Do you know where to find it?”

She smiled sheepishly before replying. “Not yet. I have to make a couple cross references in the timetable, but I’m close to finding that out. Oh, I almost forgot. Look at this passage I found.” Shuffling through pages, she stopped at a bookmarked entry.

I was so ready for this day to be over.

“It mentions some sort of medallion that gives immunity, or a counter measure to the sword, which keeps the beholder safe from the sword’s power. That could come in handy if you face an enemy with the freaking Sword of Michael, right?”

Why would the angels create an antidote for a weapon they created? It didn’t make sense, and I was getting irritated.

“Very,” I said blandly. “Do we know where that is?”

She looked down, sensing my growing unease. “Um, no. It doesn’t say. It says something about it being lost over the years.”

I slammed my palms against the table. It splintered down the middle. “Well, that doesn’t really do me any good, does it?” I snapped.

Sophie jumped and her heart rate skyrocketed. I shot out of my chair and ran to my room before the frustration found an outlet. I was a loose cannon. Wilhem Faust’s warning about either tempering my emotions or face insanity ricocheted off my skull like a bad omen. This house was making me lose my damn mind.

Pacing my room like a caged lion, I wanted to scream and throw a two-year-old tantrum. I wanted to devote all my time to training and preparing. I wanted to crawl into a hole. I wanted this to be over. But most of all, I wanted the one person who could bring me back down to Earth and anchor me so that I couldn’t topple over the edge, even if I dove straight for it.

Digging out my phone from my nightstand, I plugged it into the charger. It died, possibly of boredom, after suffering through weeks of my non-social life. Scrolling through the recent call list, I found Gavin’s number and my thumb hovered over it briefly. He wouldn’t answer. How many times would I allow rejection to chisel away at my heart?

Apparently, one more time. Deluding myself into thinking I just needed to hear his voice and I would be fine, I pressed his number.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three rings.

Four more chimed through the speaker, the realization of my desperation growing stronger with each one. The dependence sunk it’s dirty little hooks into my brain, making me the psycho ex who was too dumb to realize the guy never felt the same way.

You can’t be an ex if you were never together
.

The thought stung like millions of paper cuts between the fingers.

The automated voicemail rattled off the number I dialed and told me to leave a message. What could I say? “Hey, clearly, you don’t want to talk to me, but I’m losing my mind and could really use a hug.” I didn’t think anything I said would bring him back to me after laying it bare in St. Louis.

Before the impending beep sounded, I threw the phone as hard as I could against the wall.  It wasn’t like I needed it, anyway. I was alone in this.

A brilliant explosion of shiny black metal and glass showered the floor, gleaming like sparks in the moonlight, but that wasn’t what drew my sight in the direction of the clash. My attention shifted once the phone struck the built-in bookcase. Unless the walls here had the tendency to shudder, I would say this room had a secret door.

I padded over to the corner, where my phone lay in shattered ruins, and I traced my fingers along the shelving framework for hidden seams. They stumbled over a groove in the hardwood about three feet from the corner. I pressed into it gently to determine its strength. It gave a little but was otherwise fairly solid. If I were a hidden doorknob, where would I be?

A smile crept over my face at the idea of pulling back a book to open the secret entry. It made me giddy with anticipation as I scanned the titles, and I nearly doubled over laughing when I came across the one that read
Build your Own Secret Bookcase Door
.

No way.

I gave it a slight tug, and sure enough, the doorway pulled away from the wall. It glided out and swung open. The touch of whimsy combined with my slightly neurotic, borderline insane state brought a bubble of hysterical laughter to the back of my throat.

As I stepped through the entrance, I first noticed the stone walls curving in a wide circle, which was highlighted by the spiraling staircase that led either up or down from the landing where I now stood. The inside of the turret was dark and dank, regardless of the thin shafts of moonlight streaming in from the sporadic window slits. The silver light beckoned me upward. I paused in a room at the top where a single chaise lounge sat by the larger of the two picture windows.

The scenery from up here was breathtaking. The pines shimmered under their translucent veil of nocturnal frost. This ideal vantage point would allow me to see enemies coming from miles away, if for any reason the castle were under siege.

A draft wafted in from above. My gaze lifted to find the source, and I immediately spotted it. The outline of a trap door disrupted the pattern of natural stone. I dragged the chaise over and positioned it directly underneath the door, reaching up to pull it open.

A retractable ladder slid down to the floor, and I climbed up to stand in the conical room just beneath the spire. Another metal trap door led out onto the roof. The rusted lock snapped easily with a slight twitch of my fingers. I unlatched the handle and swung the door open. A gusty breeze chilled my heated skin, but I hardly noticed it.

I was mesmerized by the landscape and felt the cold metal slope of the spire under my butt before I realized I had even climbed outside. Patches of remaining snow sat around me, futilely clinging to the rooftop. The steep slope smoothed into a flat overhang with a large gutter. The only thing keeping me from sliding into the gutter was the thick tread on my boots.

I stayed out here for hours. Or minutes. I couldn’t be sure. Only when the millions of twinkling stars reminded me of the view from Gavin’s high rise did I relent to my weariness. Climbing back into the main chamber at the top of the turret, I settled into the chaise and succumbed to the mental fatigue.

Even in unconsciousness, I couldn’t escape my troubles. The dark gave way to the familiar light I had dreamt about since I could remember. When the blinding effect subsided, brilliant vividness replaced the light. Each color in the spectrum grew stronger and adopted a new kind of splendor that rivaled the most coveted beauty on Earth.

When the light faded completely, the normal human spectrum left the world washed out and drab, paling in comparison. I found myself standing in a familiar, dimly lit corridor. I stepped cautiously, not remembering ever being here but somehow knowing where to go. I passed old lamps dotting the walls and came to a stop in front of a heavy wooden door.

I knew what I would find behind it. A table sat in the middle of the room, the walls lined with all sorts of ancient and medieval weapons. I pushed against the solid oak hesitantly. A memory gnawing at my brain forced me to pause. Pain lanced through my chest, and I swallowed back a lump in my throat before drawing on inner strength and pushed the door out of my way.

I gasped at the familiar site. It looked exactly like the memory I had of this place. The problem was, I couldn’t quite remember where the memory stemmed from. The weapons were polished and meticulously placed in their rightful places on the walls and shelves.

I stopped in front of the center table and observed one weapon in particular, highlighted on a pedestal a few feet beyond the table. I skirted the table and reached a hand out to touch the sword. Like a magnet, it summoned me forward.

“The Sword of Michael,” announced a familiar voice.

I spun to face the newcomer. “What?” I asked, confusion lacing my tone.

“It’s important. Whether you believe it or not. We can’t allow any of them to gain that kind of power,” she droned.

“Sophie, I get it, but there are too many other things to worry about right now,” I said calmly.

“She’s right,” a deep voice said from behind me.

When I spun to face him, the world shifted. Suddenly, I was standing on the balcony overlooking the St. Louis skyline staring at Gavin’s wide shoulders and narrow waist. His tailored black suit emphasized his strong back in all the right ways, and when he turned to look at me, I was stunned by the beautiful angles of his face, accentuated by the moonlight.

My heart ached for him even in sleep. And I swore my mind must have wanted to torture me, because a flash of something akin to longing crossed his eyes before fizzling out just as quickly as it came.

He moved toward me. “Lucy,” he whispered almost reverently. “A time will come when you will face armed opponents. The vampires you will fight have infinite knowledge of swordplay and various other weapons you’ve never encountered. You need to prepare yourself to defend as well as attack with those weapons. You can’t give them the advantage.”

“How can I master weapons when I can’t even control my own body?” I asked.