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What could he possibly have to fear from me? Is it me he fears?
“What is Decaux talking about, Marchand?” Jackson demands, pressing himself closer to my side. A wicked grin maligns Decaux’s face as a deep rumbling sound roars through Jackson’s words. Mark moves closer to our side and Titan, Gregory, and Brian press forward as well.
“Dal?” I mutter as a familiar foreboding gall wrangles my insides into knots. Looking at him, my instincts drive me to dig deep into Dalcour’s mind. Forcing myself through his thick blockade, images of a dagger with a ruby-crowned hilt and the face of his sireling, Chartreuse Grenoble, score through me like a wrecking ball. Although I cannot discern its meaning, I know the truth I have waited for abides in Dalcour’s next word.
Calling his name once more, Dalcour looks at me with sweat beading the lining of his brow as thick droplets rush from his temple toward his jaw. “Damina, please, we can talk about this. Just not in front of everyone,” he whispers back to me.
“Why, dear brother? You have nothing to hide! You have committed no ill. Nor have I!” Decaux sneers with a malicious grin. Dacari casts a worried glance at me but still maintains hold of her father.
“Well, spit it out, Marchand! What new lies are you keeping from Damina!” Jackson shouts.
“Dal, please tell me. What are you keeping from me? Did you—kill them?” My mind wanders.
“Of course not, Damina! I had nothing to do with the death of your parents! Absolutely nothing!” Dalcour refutes quickly, keeping his gaze locked with mine.
“Then what, Dalcour? You’ve been keeping something from me. And it has something to do with Chartreuse Grenoble,” I dig further as his thoughts become more vivid in my mind.
Dalcour looks around the crowd, biting his bottom lip, restraining himself.
“Oh spit it out, brother!” Decaux quips, tossing his arms up in the air.
“My brother Decaux is right, Damina. He had nothing to do with your parent’s death. I know—I know, at first, I thought so too. But then I had Nara, our recordkeeper, pull our annals. The Guardians keep records of any public supernatural deaths. I was able to look into it and found evidence of Chartreuses’ involvement,” Dalcour reveals in a low mumble.
“You mean to tell me that red-headed banshee killed my sister!” Aunt Delia yelps from behind, breaking free of Dilano and Alana’s hold and rushing to my side. I’ve never seen her move so fast. Ever.
“Is that true, Dalcour?” Mark questions with a darkened glare as he holds my aunt to his side.
“Dal?” I say, questioning him once more. His glassy eyes stare back at me, laden in a well-placed fear. “So that’s why you dragged me from the Civility Center? It’s also why you’ve kept your thoughts hidden from me!”
“Damina, please! I was going to tell you! I just needed some time to—”
“To what, Dalcour? Get her out of here?”
“No, baby! I only wanted to keep you safe!”
“By lying to me!”
“No, by keeping you safe! That’s all! Damina, the last thing I wanted was for you to find out like this. Believe me.”
“How can I believe anything you have to say, Dalcour?”
“Well, what did you want me to do? Tell you that one of the most sadistic and lethal creatures to ever walk this earth killed your parents? And, oh, by the way she’s down in the CC if you want to go talk to her! I’ve seen Chartreuse tear people apart and bring men to their feet!”
“I am no man! And do not suppose you know what I would have done, Dalcour Marchand!”
“I know you well enough to know you’d rush off, headfirst and challenge her without a thought for your safety or a plan.”
“Wow, Dalcour. It’s good to see you have so little confidence in me.”
“Please, Beautiful, can we just go somewhere and talk? Please,” Dalcour pleads. I detect the coolness of his jasmine and lavender scent fill the space between us, but by some new inner strength, I force it away. The thought of his wildflower fragrance is almost repugnant to me in this moment. His eyes lower to meet mine and he searches my face, looking for any semblance of understanding, but I have none to give.
“Yes, by all means don’t mind us,” Decaux mocks as he saunters casually between me and Dalcour.
The crowd around us is also eerily quiet. However strange it may be, I almost feel this new piece of information is drawing a line in the sand, rattling the forming alliance of the supernatural community right before our eyes.
With his arms folded behind his back, Decaux paces back and forth, shooting speculative glances at the onlookers surrounding us and Dacari. My cousin maintains her posture, but her gaze softens as she stares at her father and he relaxes his double-dealing stance.
“Listen, Damina—is it okay if I call you Damina?” Decaux asks with a sly smile as he rubs his hands together and continues pacing. But I refuse to answer, and I keep my attention fixed on Dalcour. “I suppose I am as much to blame in this as is my brother.”
“How so, Decaux?” Jackson quickly questions as he keeps a steady stand at my side.
“Well, had I not loved Chartreuses’ big sister, Calida, with such an ardent passion perhaps she would not have died at the hands of those bigoted talking monkeys! After I escaped the death, they ultimately meant to be my demise, I set this City on fire. Leaving my brother behind to clean up my mess. And that is what he has done since that day,” Decaux says as though his lament was a source of pride as he smiles widely, gazing at Dalcour. Still, Dalcour keeps his sights on me.
Noticing our exchange, Decaux continues ambling back and forth between Dalcour and me. “About twenty or so years after the fires, Dalcour gave me a present. Chartreuse Grenoble. I suppose since she looked so much like her sister, he thought I’d fall in love with her too and perhaps ease my pain. But I did not. All I saw when I looked at Chartreuse was Calida’s baby sister and nothing more. As time passed, she begged both Dalcour and me to turn her. He eventually gave in. But I warned my brother that her taming would never fully take—”
“What does this have to do with my parents?” I have no interest in this story.
“Simply put—nothing. Your mother was neither wolf nor a Peyroux by blood. When Chartreuse discovered a member of your family was responsible for exposing our whereabouts, she vowed to make the Peyroux bloodline pay. Unfortunately, she meant to kill your aunt. When she realized Delia got away, she vowed to hunt and find her. Instead, she found your mother and father.” Decaux says in a more demure and controlled tone than his cagey expression suggests.
“Did you know what she was planning, Decaux?” Aunt Delia quietly asks, with her hand resting at her chest.
“No I did not, Delia. I kept my distance from Chartreuse over the years for many reasons. If you can believe it, she’s more high maintenance than you, my sweet. But recently, when Cade told me the story of the day even he walked away from Chartreuse and how he had now come into connection with my daughter, I was shocked. But the minute I saw her, I knew without question she was my daughter.” Decaux says as Dacari offers a bashful grin. Looking at the two of them, I am surprised to find remnants of Decaux in Dacari’s smile and eyes. The care laced in his eyes as he regards her is also hard to miss.
Still, none of it does much to douse the kindling rage brewing at my thoughts of Dalcour.
“How could you,” I grumble, casting a dagger-eyed stare at Dalcour.
“Damina, please, I never meant to keep it from you.”
“But you did, Dal. You did. More than anyone you know, everything I’ve been through is because others continue to decide when it’s the best time for me to know something that is mine alone to decide. Yet, none of that pales in knowing you didn’t tell me because you didn’t think I could handle it. You of all people. If there was anyone to think better of me, I thought it was you. Now I know the truth. You don’t believe in me. You never have.”
“Ah! This is indeed a sadness!” Decaux adds, walking once more between Dalcour and me. Jackson snarls at his passing, but Decaux continues his stride. There’s a new pep in his step as he speaks, and I know nothing good will come of his next words. “Hopefully, you two will get things on the mend. I mean, truly, the fate of all is dependent on your great love story. Although, I get the feeling the Prime Alpha at her side has something to say about it. It’s quite a conundrum indeed!” Decaux exclaims.
“Enough, brother! Haven’t you done enough damage for one day?” Dalcour shouts back, turning his attention to Decaux.
“Now, little brother, you know I’m capable of more carnage than mere teasing. But you are correct. Too much time has been given to your lover’s quarrel with my niece—or my sister-in-law—what is she, exactly? Oh, never mind that. What matters is that your stipulation to find love has yet to be met.”
“My heart beats, Decaux. And yes, I have found a love—at least for my part,” Dalcour mumbles his last phrase. “That’s all you need to know!” He shouts, snapping himself from his forming sulking state.
“To be fair, that is not quite correct. You two are destined for greatness as it were, and we need to witness the foretelling of your great and powerful love fulfilled. Are you two here and now ready to commit your lives to one another and fulfil the prophecies for the good of all?” Decaux’s probing is as mocking as it is infuriating.
His timing of bringing up Chartreuse was calculated.
“And I suppose that is why you brought Chartreuse, brother?” Dalcour counters, aware of Decaux’s intent.
“Touché!” Decaux does nothing to hide his motives as he lifts his fedora from his head as he bows to his waist.
“Damina, you don’t need to choose now,” Dacari says in an almost rebuking tone as she nudges her father’s shoulder, coming to his side. He hunches dismissively, but extends his hand toward Dalcour and me, gesturing for us to respond. Dacari’s tender eyes gaze back at me as she searches my face, watching my falling tears. While everything inside is prompting me to run, I remain steady, but my heart is once again broken. Once more, my cousin is front and center of my heartbreak with a backyard as my stage for all to see. “Father please,” Dacari continues, as her eyes pool with tears as she stares at me. “Don’t put Damina through this. She’s been through enough already. I think it’s best if we go with Plan B.”
“Plan B?” Jackson prods, taking his place in front of me as a shield. Gregory and Mark flank his sides. Dalcour looks over his shoulder at me, his countenance still grieved, but he turns his gaze back to his brother.
“Ah! My little dewdrop has kind of skipped ahead,” Decaux answers, as he nods to both Dorine and Padma who now come closer to his side. Snarling sounds echo from the hedges of the estate and bright red eyes glow back at us in the distance as those who came with Decaux close in around us.
“Decaux what are you up to?” Titan shouts as even he pulls his sisters protectively to his side.
“Well, fine, I’ll bite,” Decaux exclaims. “Look, as much as my darling daughter told me there’s no way Damina is truly over Jackson enough to be with Dalcour, I contested her at every turn. You see, I believed in the prophecies. Knowing that one day my brother would regain his beating heart, love again, and restore the balance was truly all I ever wanted. Still, my dulcet darling insisted that Jackson was Damina’s one true love—yada—yada—you know all that sappy love talk. But it appears my Dacari was right after all. I mean, if you Damina are willing to walk away from my brother for this one offense, perhaps your love wasn’t of storybook legend after all,” Decaux sneers with a slithering smile.
“Decaux, stop it!” Dalcour grits his teeth, with his redness shimmering through his skin and anger filling his face.
Tears freefall past my cheeks as he speaks, and the weighted truth of his words torment me. I do love Dalcour, but I am not in love with this world. And it is to this world he belongs. A world with Chartreuse Grenoble. A world I want no part of. More than anything, I wish I could awaken from the nightmare of it. And I know when the curtain of night unveils my sight it will be Jackson Nash standing there for me to behold. We want the same things, and none of it includes this world. Brae gave up a part of this world just to be with her one true love. I know Dalcour will never give up this world. Not for me. Perhaps not for anyone.
“Fine, I’ll keep my words short,” Decaux answers in a dark and menacing tone. “We no longer need to wait idly for you to restore balance to the land through the grace of true love or your beating heart, brother.”
“What are you suggesting?” Titan questions, coming closer, but keeping a tight hold on both Ketu and Keitai.
“It is not what I’d suggest good friend, it is what I now do. With my daughter now at my side, we can finally put an end to the power wielded by the Order of Altrinion. All their rules. Curses. All of it will finally meet its end!”
“Decaux, brother, what have you done?” Dalcour screams.
My heart quivers as I watch a malign grin mar Decaux’s otherwise perfect face.
“My father does what you’ve had the power to do but failed to perform!” Dacari lashes back.
“Dacari, what are you talking about?” I plead, pushing myself through the shield of wolves guarding me.
“You are only partly correct, daughter,” Decaux adds. “Your uncle may have had them in his possession, but he hadn’t what is necessary to wield such a power!”
“Decaux, brother, tell me you didn’t” Dalcour replies as his eyes grow wide in horror.
“No, he didn’t” Dacari quickly responds. “I did!” Dacari’s face darkens as she reaches over her shoulder and pulls out a glass cylinder encasing the bamboo scrolls I once saw in Dalcour’s room. In her other hand she reveals the large katana blades that once hung over Dalcour’s bed.
“How did you?” Dalcour gasps, breathless.
“Oh, it was easy enough. I had seen them when Brae took me for the tour when I first arrived. Later, when father told me the story of their power to finally set us free, I knew I had to help him.”
“No, Dacari, he’s tricking you! He’s lying to you!” Aunt Delia cries out.
“No, mother! The only one who has lied to me from the day I was born was you! You led me to believe my father wanted nothing to do with me. But the truth is, he never knew I existed. You took him from me! But now that he is in my life, I will never let him go again!”
“Dacari, please!” I beg. “Aunt Delia is right! He is lying to you. He’s using you!”
“No, cousin, he’s not. Just because everyone has jerked your chain for years, you toggle back and forth! You don’t know who to trust or believe. And I get that, Mina, really, I do. But what I am about to do will not just help you—but all of us. You don’t need the pressure of being the savior of the supernatural race. You don’t have to be the hero or the chosen one—or anything like that. Instead, we can all finally have freedom!”
“My daughter speaks the truth,” Decaux shouts over the murmuring crowd. “For years, my brother has had this tool in his possession, but now we have the power to finally end the tyranny of the Order of Altrinion! We can finally put an end to their curses and ultimately their control over our lives! Dacari is the only supernatural of pure descent from all three supernatural lineages capable of uttering the sacred words. And soon I will have all that is necessary to end the power of the Great Oak—by using this blade to sever its power!”
“Brother don’t do this!” Dalcour protests.
“Why not, Dalcour? With Dacari uttering the sacred words, she can finally release us all from the curses by which we are bound. And to test the theory and prove us correct, she will recite the phrase on some of our less fortunate of supernaturals—the Scourge. Bring them forth!” Decaux yells and three frail Scourge come from the shadows, led by both Dorine and Padma. Now with these words we will free them from their Scourge-like state, and they will become vampires in power only; less the brutality and deplorable state.”
“Stay close to me,” Jackson whispers in my ear, locking his arm in mine.
Dalcour looks over his shoulder at us but returns his focus on Decaux and Dacari.
Pulling the scrolls out of the casing, Decaux holds the rice paper open by the bamboo poles and Dacari begins to recite the words on the page. Everyone stands in awe as golden shimmers of light hover over the three Scourge. As we watch, their more reptilian features fade, leaving them with mortal faces. The sliminess of their skin regresses and in shock I watch as their looks soften, revealing a more attractive version of themselves than their earlier Scourge state. Staring back and forth with one another, they too are surprised that only their fangs remain intact, and their eyes now reflect a radiant blue opulence.
Gasps and whispers permeate the mansion lawn and other vampires rush to the front line begging Decaux to allow Dacari to do the same to them next.
“All in good time,” he replies to their pleas. “Is there anyone else who wants to finally end their Scourge status?”
“We do,” Dorine and Padma answer in unison.
“Of course, I cannot ask others to do what I will not ask of my sirelings,” Decaux answers.
“Brother, you’ve proven your point!” Dalcour contests.
“All of you who want liberation! Come forth—Skull wolves included!” Decaux declares, and the Skull come from their hiding. Kneeling before Decaux and Dacari, my cousin speaks the ancient language over them as well, and we watch in awe as the same transformation takes place.
“Damina, we need to get out of here,” Jackson says, now pulling me to his side. “There’s nothing more we can do for your cousin.”
Watching Dacari fluently belt dialect I never thought her capable as she stands in agreement with her newly found father, stirs a heartache that pains more than imaginable.
“Lord Nashoba is right, Damina. We need to get you out of here. You’re a pureblood Altrinion—the tastiest dish on the grounds.” Mark says as he yanks Brae to his side.
“You go, Lord Helsing. I will not leave Dacari alone with her father,” Brian declares as he maintains a dutiful watch of Dacari. A part of me is thankful for him, but she doesn’t deserve his loyalty or affection.
“Get her out of here!” Dalcour commands. “Braelyn too! She’s mortal meat to them now. You all need to leave!”
As Dalcour and I lock eyes with one another, I know his sentiment has more long-term implications than his words suggest.
This is his goodbye.
Grabbing my forearm, Dalcour pulls me close, but it does not feel as it has before. Something has changed. His aromatic lure does not call to me as I am accustomed. It is almost as if his scent faded. Dalcour’s eyes are a glassy pool of crimson, and the sweat along his brow and upper lip reveals the trepidation of his heart.
Farewell, Beautiful. Dalcour’s words raid my mind in an instant as a final pulse of kinetic energy pulsates through him with his final squeeze on my arm before he lets me go.
Jackson wastes no time pulling me from Dalcour’s grip as he lifts me in his arms. Looking over his shoulder, I watch as Dilano and Alana pull my aunt behind us. Cedric and Abigail maintain their post with Dalcour. I am surprised to see Titan hand his sisters to Kyra and Merle as the Lothian den follows us off the premises. Mark, however, works hard to pull Brae from Dalcour as she pleads with him to come along.
As he pushes her into Mark’s arms, Brae folds into his muscle-bound embrace, crying on his shoulder. Mark gives one final nod to Dalcour and the remaining wolves follow him out of the yard while my cousin continues chanting, changing the Scourge before our eyes.
Looking over Jackson’s shoulder, Dalcour’s eyes and mine meet once more. The desolation I now find in the depth of his eyes is unfamiliar to me. One lone tear peddles past his cheekbones as his woeful gaze stares back at me.
A loud crashing sound shatters like glass as my eyes remain on Dalcour and I see him shake as though he quivered for fear. I look around, but I don’t see any glass. Then it hits me. The sound I heard was his heart breaking.