DAYTIME’S critters were snug for the night while nocturnal creatures hadn’t yet stepped out to claim dominion over the earth. Dusk existed so the certainties of day could hide from the mysteries of night.
Unlike Sariel’s worldview as a child, one-time enigmas of the inky blackness held fewer secrets now. With her training, increased strength, and keen sight, she no longer feared the monsters in the dark. She destroyed them.
Yet tonight, some unknown dynamic fleeced the joy from the atmosphere. The air now possessed a sinister, prophetic vibe that encased Sariel’s body and shrouded her mind. She wasn’t a woman driven by flights of fancy and superstition, even if the gooseflesh on her arms suggested otherwise.
“Sariel, what has you so deep in thought? I hear the wheels turning.”
Under Crystine’s wing, she’d transcended her previous panic of the preternatural through understanding and training. Better to face and defeat the monsters than to run and hope they wouldn’t catch her. Once upon a time, she’d thought herself an expert on that, too—until providence and a pack of vampires found her. Crystine not only saved her life but also taught her how to survive.
Before Crystine, instead of loving parents and a stable home during formative years, she’d shuffled between foster homes, never knowing what made her unacceptable in their hearts.
“Just—as much as it used to bother me, you know—not knowing my parents—I don’t fret about it anymore. Most of the time, I feel I have everything I need.”
“Most of the time?” Crystine arched a brow. “What do you feel you’re missing?”
Sariel didn’t miss her friend’s flinch or slight head tilt before looking away. Words couldn’t explain the mysterious yearning deep inside, an ache, a void crouched deep in her soul. Yet Crystine’s knowing she chafed for some unknown entity wasn’t fair. “Nothing really, I’m just waxing ridiculous.” Crystine not only saved her life, but became friend, teacher, sister, and mother. Sariel owed her life many times over.
“Crystine, why did he call me an angel? I certainly don’t feel angelic…” Her unladylike snort startled several white-tailed deer peering through the lower branches of nearby holly trees.
“I don’t know, Sariel. Even with the knowledge passed down through generations, I don’t have a clue. Your unique gifts come from someone special and unique in ways I can’t imagine.
“I’ve never seen anyone who not only detects the spirit of life but also brings life from death. Wish I could see as well as you do at night. And—did I mention—to bring life from death? Wow, I’d also love to have the acuity of your early warning system or to sense innate evil in other beings the way you can. One thing I’ve learned, father time shows us what we need to know when we need it. We’ll figure it all out eventually.”
With a sigh, Sariel voiced her indifference. “Then I suppose it shouldn’t matter. I’ll claim myself human until I learn otherwise.” The view behind them belied her words. The small clearing bore no trace of the demons’ passing. Tender grass shoots and small, colorful wildflowers flourished in the gentle breeze, another tranquil evening to come.
“And no, it shouldn’t matter. We are what we make of ourselves.” Crystine frowned as they strolled side by side along their well-worn trail.
Sparse seedlings gave way to a more heavily wooded realm to cast shadows that deepened and coalesced to provide a fitting backdrop to their most recent adventure. Accumulating, monstrous proportions held the forest’s ethereal occupants hostage as the occasional waft of cool air slithered and sifted through the leaves. The world held balance in nature, in life, and in death.
“Seems you’ve made a name for yourself. Why’d they call you headhunter? Never heard that reference before.” Sariel lifted her chin to inhale nature’s musky combination of woodland scents: dark rich soil, a touch of wild mint, and the crisp humid air drifting from nearby rapids.
The gentle gurgling of the waterfall ahead brought a soothing peace to her soul, each step closer mitigating more tension. This was their safe place, the natural haven providing a balm for her soul.
“My family hunted demons in the fifteenth century. I took over the title when a pack of vampires murdered Eliza, my twin.” Crystine stopped at the edge of the plunge basin, scrutinizing the rush of water. Removing the thick mass from its braid allowed coal-black hair to drift across her face, hiding a wistful pensiveness.
In her mind’s eye, Sariel imagined the horrific events from long ago unfolding. She understood firsthand what losing family felt like. “Did your family kill the vampires?”
“No. Never discovered their identity. Apparently they’d dabbled in black magick, strong magick, which is very unusual.” The pain of witnessing the horrific death etched her expression with longing and regret.
“Hence your determination to kill all vampires and demons. That’s what wakes you from your nightmares.” Through the years, Sariel’s attempts to weaken that steadfast hatred saw little progress. “I still don’t believe all vampires are evil. Yes, some kill and become a true scourge but so do some humans. We don’t go after mortals…”
“Humans have the capacity to deal with their own. Demons and vampires transcend mankind’s normal experiences and capabilities to contain or control. And yeah, talk therapy worked out well the last two times we’ve come across the damned oversized ticks, huh.” Crystine rolled her eyes. She’d always possessed little patience with her protégé’s investigations.
Both confrontations entailed a brief exploration into the possibility of decency in the vampires but resulted in the creatures’ sudden death. That still doesn’t mean they’re all evil, does it?
With the exception of demons, Sariel liked to think most of God’s creatures contained at least some good, and vampires were mortal—once.
Low cord grass lined both sides of the deep, clear pool ahead. Slabs of white-and gray-streaked granite sat upright on one side, further secluding their oasis. This sight softened Sariel’s frustrations. “Be great if we could lay these slabs out to bask in the sun.” A deep inhalation delivered the reassuring scents of nature to calm the turmoil brewing within her.
“Even combined, we’re not that strong.”
A large, tempestuous river fed the fresh waterfall cascading down the mountain’s vertical drop to plunge onto wedges of stone. The resulting spumous spray filled the air and traveled on the atmosphere’s micro currents to lend a magickal vista reminiscent of a recurring dream. The surrounding eddies and foam in the water lent a peace unsurpassed by anything ever encountered.
“Crystine, do you feel that?” The hair on her nape stood. Uncertainty filled her mind. With no sense of demon or evil, something pulled at her deep inside, an invisible cord urging her forward. Magick? She rubbed the back of her neck and shivered from the skin tightening across her shoulders. Awareness seeped into her soul she could neither define nor deny.
“What?” Ebony waves whirled as Crystine drew her short blades, her weight balanced. “I don’t feel it. Where, Sariel?”
“Not exactly sure. It almost feels like…behind the waterfall. Though I don’t know what it is.” Her Naue II slid quietly from its sheath as her knees bent and her senses drifted outward. To have this area desecrated by evil verged on blasphemous.
“Aleyn, we need you. Come to us.” A look of serenity encompassing her face, Crystine’s command emerged smooth, calm, and adamant.
Within seconds, the transparent silhouette of a man floated before Sariel, wearing a double-breasted pea coat with brass buttons. A ghost from a previous era, he appeared out of place with an ascot tie and faded breeches. Diaphanous locks pulled back with an equally transparent thong gave him an old-world look while wire-rimmed spectacles perching on the end of his nose completed his eclectic style. His gray-streaked, translucent goatee was just long enough to twirl in his fingers.
Though he couldn’t affect solid objects, Aleyn made the ideal scout and messenger. “What can I do for you today, ladies?” A strong English accent brought new life to the detailed stories he shared of Arthurian legend, yet through years of companionship his own mysterious ancestry remained private.
“The grotto, can you go in and check it out? I sense something in there which shouldn’t be.” The fierce look Sariel received from her spectral colleague spoke of a need to protect. In the next instant, he vanished.
Minutes later, his abrupt reappearance without his usual flair alerted them they now faced a bigger problem.
“M’ladies, there is a male of indeterminate species lying near the pool, severely injured. I detected demon essence on him and he’s at least part vampire. There’s a nasty festering wound on his shoulder.”
A low growl escaped Crystine. “Aleyn, stay here and keep watch, let us know if anything else approaches. This could be a trap.”
Moisture-ridden air hung thick in saturated silence, riddled with an agitated expectancy as if some phantasmal demon crouched in the shadowed depths, waiting to corrupt unsuspecting spectators.
In a stealthy prowl forward, Sariel tried to ignore the mixed warnings of her gut, as if not death but something more ominous awaited.
“Stick close, Sariel. I’ve not known demons to conspire with vampires—although I guess any creature can learn given enough time. I can think of no reason for a vampire to be here. We’ve certainly never left our scent inside.”
Side by side, they approached the grotto.
“Sense that, Crystine? Mmm, does seem like demon and vampire. We could have some kind of hybrid. Or maybe a vampire attacked by a demon or three?”
“Don’t know. Never sensed anything like it. The demons did say they searched for a vampire.” Each padded forward in wary anticipation. “Do you sense its nature? Not that it matters, we should just kill it.”
“I don’t sense evil, but I do smell demon. This doesn’t make sense. I’ve always detected evil. Perhaps he was attacked by demons and doesn’t contain an innate darkness.” Sariel tilted her head to the side in confusion. “Maybe the demons spoke the truth.”
The waterfall, which usually inspired awe, now frustrated their vision. Mist set afloat from the water’s turbulent plunge veiled the scene ahead. Picking their way through the upslope of rocks and boulders demanded full attention to the slick, moss and fungi-coated surfaces.
Cascades of water hid the cave’s entrance as its sheets plunged to the basin below, sending geysers of white foam to surf the air currents. Deep enough to be opaque, the fall’s width dictated they’d have to go behind its wall to determine the hollow’s contents once they reached the wide, hidden ledge.
Hazy vapor in the air clung to Sariel’s leathers and fogged her vision. Loose hair escaping its braid matted her neck with annoying, undisciplined persistence.
Perfect place for an ambush. Sariel couldn’t have stopped her forward motion if her life depended on it. An inexplicable yet persistent force drew her to the foreboding interior.
Furtive steps led them deeper into a conundrum. If it was an injured vampire—why come here?
Humidified air became thick with the scent of something injured. “Crystine, Aleyn’s right. Not only is something back here, but the fact that it’s hurt will make it more dangerous.”
The only evidence of their passage was the moss springing to life within each of Sariel’s wet footprints. Each step’s advance accompanied a foreboding surge of tension to create a small tremble in her sword arm.
“Sariel, this dark interior will impede our vision more than this creature’s, giving it the advantage. A light would only make us a better target.” Crystine closed the short distance between them as the walls formed a deep concavity.
Claustrophobia had never been a factor in entering this domain. Now, the air seemed too thick to breathe, too dense and dark to peer through.
A decidedly male groan disrupted the silence. Crystine held out her arm in caution.
If this morphed into an attack, they’d have two directions to flee. Forward led to more rooms. Each held its own disadvantages including narrowed passage and lower ceilings that decreased their space to maneuver. If they retraced their steps, they could encounter incoming evil.
“Maybe it’s the vampire the demons spoke of. Maybe he’s using the falls to camouflage his essence.” Sariel’s whispered uncertainty allowed suspicion a stronger hold in her mind.