Endlessly

Endlessly

By C.V. Hunt

Copyright 2011 C.V. Hunt

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places and incidents either are the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental unless specified in acknowledgements.

Copyright 2011 C. V. Hunt

Smashwords Edition

All rights reserved.

http://www.authorcvhunt.com

Smashwords Edition, License
Notes

This ebook is licensed for your
personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given
away to other people. If you would like to share this book with
another person , please purchase and additional copy for each
recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or
it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to
Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting
the hard work of this author.

This work was edited by Peter Heyrman.
He can be contacted by

mailto:[email protected] or by
calling (410)-433-0908

Author’s photos for jacket and website
were taken by Tony Ocha. He can be contacted at
http://www.tattoosbyoch.com

ISBN: 1456356534

ISBN-13: 978-1-4563-5653-8

(ebook) ISBN:
978-1-4507-5995-3

Library of Congress Control Number:
2010919430

DEDICATION

This book is for everyone that has
accepted me for who I am.

Words. They are our greatest weapon in
life. They have the power to heal and destroy. Choose them
carefully as you battle each day. A single word could be your last
spoken or heard. You will be remembered for them.

These pages are filled with some of my
words.

C.V. Hunt

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A thank you to Peter Heyrman, my
editor, for inspiration and guidance.

To Tony Och, my tattooist,
photographer, and friend, thanks for the morbidly funny
conversations and creepy photos.

A huge thank you to Chris Godfrey,
Pedro Soto, and Patti Witte for allowing me use your names and
likeness. I had way too much fun doing wicked things to
you.

To Richard, my husband, thank you for
putting up with me, Verloren, Ash, and Jason.

Chapter 0

PRELUDE

I had finally met the Quatre. I’d known
of them for so long, but often I’d wondered if they were anything
more than a scary bedtime story we told to keep each other in
line.

Now I stood before them in a beach
condo somewhere in the Caribbean. The four of them lounged on the
furniture, acting as if this was nothing more than a casual
conversation about the weather. The balcony door was open. Through
it came the sound of waves breaking on the beach. A warm breeze
fluttered through nearby curtains. It would have been nice under
other circumstances.

The tropical atmosphere masked the fact
that this was intended to be the place of my death. Would my death
be a relief? I didn’t know. The only thing I was sure of was that
no one should live as long as I had. My kind--what the world calls
vampires--don’t have souls. That makes us unique, but it also means
that death is truly the end—no reincarnation, or afterlife of any
kind. What would it be like to sleep with no dreams? Sweet
oblivion? I tried to imagine nothing. I had lost my belief in any
god a long time ago. The incarnates confirmed this, telling me that
gods did not exist. After all, why would any god create a monster
like me?

Kale’s face was blank behind
sunglasses. “You haven’t answered us Verloren,” he said, allowing a
glimmer of smugness to spice his apathy. He wore a suit—certainly
more fitting than my casual outfit.

I searched his eyes, trying to erase
any cruelness that might creep into my expression. The room’s
bright sunlight was hell on my eyes. It was a struggle to keep them
open, but if I didn’t how would I see death coming. I didn’t take
my eyes off Kale. I felt that my only chance for sympathy would be
with him--a fellow vampire. Wind ruffled his long white
hair.

“I choose not to conceal my appearance,
for the same reasons you don’t conceal yours,” I told him. As we
eyed each other it occurred to me that our colorless skin and hair
made the exercise something like looking into a mirror--except that
our features were as different as they could be.

Kale laughed. The werewolf sitting next
to him looked smug. Hania, the shaman, avoided eye contact, staring
at the floor instead. Then there was little Sara. She fidgeted as
if she were really the child she appeared to be.

Kale leaned forward and grinned. “I do
not tromp about in the human world like you. Do you really think
that the humans won’t look at you and suspect something?” He shook
his head, as if he were dealing with a stubborn child.

“Sure, they’ll see something
different,” I sneered. “I won’t deny it, Kale. But this is the
millennium, 2000, modern times. No one is going to stone me.
They’ll just think I’m an albino. You’re making a lot out of
nothing. Don’t be so afraid.”

If Kale planned to kill me, I had to at
least put up a fight. Maybe I was sick of this world, but with no
hope past death, I was determined to try to stay alive. There was
no reason to remind him that death was a vampire’s greatest fear.
He knew it from personal experience.

Kale contemplated my argument. These
four—this Quatre—worried about their own survival, not mine. I
couldn’t blame them. We all knew what might happen if we—vampires,
incarnates, and all the rest—were exposed.

William, the werewolf, glanced about
nervously. With his plain face, buzz-cut hair, khakis and plain
white shirt, he looked like any middle-aged man. His gun holster
was obvious, but I hated him more for those stupid khakis than for
his wish to kill me.

Finally he asked: “Couldn’t we just
kill him and get it over with?”

My body tensed. William drew his
revolver from its holster. I might be able to dodge a shot, but
then there were the goons outside. These folks had enough firepower
to take out most of the island.

“Let’s not be hasty.” Kale raised his
hand to William, then turned to smirk at me. “Verloren has a
special talent for seeing people for what they truly are. I’ve
never heard of such a thing before. It really fascinates me. What
is it you call them?”

I eyed him carefully. “Auras,” I said.
“I see their aura…and know what they are.” This was the first
interest Kale had shown in anything other than my imminent death. I
could see Kale’s aura, a black film hugging his skin. His vampire’s
aura was something like my own.

William’s bright aura was
red.

Hania’s silvery shaman’s aura nearly
blinded me. His long hair fell into his face, concealing dark brown
eyes and weathered russet skin. I couldn’t look at him
long.

Sara’s was the rainbow prism of all
Incarnates. The tiny girl sat upside down, her back on the seat,
and her legs running up the chairback. She swung her feet, stared
into space, and sung a child’s lullaby to herself.

Watching her made me wonder if I’d ever
been a father. Surely I could have had a family before the change.
I’d been old enough. What would it have been like to live as a
normal human? Would a family be a blessing? Would I want people who
cared about me? Would I want a soul?

Hania still stared at the floor,
looking as if he didn’t care if I lived or died. His face showed
the wear of age. He sat as still as a statue.

We said nothing. The room filled with
the sound of the ocean and Sara’s fidgeting. The blonde child
twisted her hair and stared vacantly at the wall. She was a fairy
who was still having trouble with shifting. That’s why they chose
her. A fairy is always eager for more– more of everything. More
power, more money, more pleasure—they’ll do anything to get what
they want. Even then I could see that when she got older the others
would have to suffer her desire for power.

“We will let you go as long as you take
someone with you. They will keep an eye on you,” Kale said. William
stared at him, his jaw dropping in disbelief. Kale continued: “If
you create a problem, he will be instructed to kill you. He will
report back to us. If he sees no problems with your life and
lifestyle, after awhile, he can leave.”

Relief flooded me, but I hated the idea
of a babysitter. I looked at the others. They waited to see where
Kale would lead them. Why bother with a group? I wondered. It was
obvious this was Kale’s game. He was judge, jury and, if necessary,
executioner.

As they left William was the only one
to acknowledge me, glaring at me as he went out the
door.

Sure, vampires were at the top of the
pecking order, but born knowings and werewolves were only a step
behind. I regarded Sara as nothing more than decoration,
representing what was left of those who were not human. She was a
beautiful child who would grow into a beautiful temptress luring
the unsuspecting to their deaths.

As I closed the door I sighed. I now
knew just how real the Quatre was. They ruled the non-human world,
deciding what rules we must follow. In my case that meant I needed
a baby sitter. Otherwise I might talk, and that was always
forbidden.

**********

Over a decade passes.

Chapter 1

SECOND SIGHT

The store was a front, a basic part of
the disguise that kept the Quatre off my back. Not that I was
hiding from them. They knew about our shop. I put on a human façade
to keep them happy, and counted myself lucky that they hadn’t
called me in for another meeting.

I had helpers. Three of us, a vampire,
a werewolf and a witch, were running the store. We posed as humans,
while an assortment of incarnates filtered in and out, looking for
information. They were usually glad to find us. Few of them
suspected that a place such as this could even exist.

Then there were our human patrons, high
school and college kids looking for CDs, books, or clothes. God,
how I hated them, with their normal lives and boring problems. They
complained about the pettiest things: dating, clothes, school…If
they could walk a mile in my shoes.

And here was Chris Godfrey, the only
human I could tolerate, leaning on the counter, trying to hustle me
over some CDs. He was at least a head taller than my 5’7”, but as
he leaned over to rifle through a pile of CDs, he gave up the
height advantage. Chris wore a stocking cap and looked as if he’d
skipped a couple of days shaving. It was nice to have someone
around that appreciated music the way I did—even though he was
human. Someone once told me that it only takes one thing in common
to make a friend. We had two.

“Come on man. I’ll trade you a box of
ammo for these,” he offered. Chris owned the small gun store across
the parking lot from my shop. It was convenient to have that kind
of access to firepower. Chris never worried about my lack of ID. I
was never even sure if ID was a requirement for gun ownership in
Fort Wayne, Indiana.

“Sure,” I whispered. “They better be
hollow points.” I kept my voice down so the few customers wouldn’t
hear, but I couldn’t do anything about the damn demon in the back.
He’d been strolling around the books all day, and from where he was
he would almost certainly hear the conversation.

Suddenly the bell rang, signaling the
door opening. Chris and I both looked over as the girl came in.
There was something about her. Chris looked back to me and
continued talking. I caught a glimpse of the girl’s unusual aura,
then I got a burst of pictures. The Quatre was the only one I
recognized, then it was all gone. I stood staring at the front of
the store. The girl had disappeared from my direct line of sight. I
stared straight ahead, trying to grasp what I had just
seen.