The Return (7 page)

Grant and Lance, the two boys that had helped tend the house, were hanging by their feet from the trees, their bodies rent with bloody gashes, guts and insides hanging level with their dangling hands. Blood dripped in rivulets down their arms and fingers, pooling beneath them. She stifled a horrified sob at the sight. Alarmed, she turned to the house. The bodies served as a warning to what she would find within. Her mother and father... Her dear brother...

Carefully opening the front door she caught the scent of blood. She ran down the hallway in the direction of the smell unable to hold herself back. She cried out in horror as she beheld her parent’s room. Everything was covered in blood. The walls and floors were splattered with it. Slowly approaching the bed, she knew she would find their mutilated bodies. She covered her mouth and nose to stop the stench of their blood overtaking her senses. They had been laid side by side by some sadistic Roman, their hands clasped. What was left of their opalescent skin had lost its luster, their silver hair matted with blood and pieces of each other’s flesh. She stared at their faces, their eyes open and vacant, and no hint of the warmth she once knew. Now, only cold death had them. Numbly, she stepped backwards, careful not to slip in the pooled blood.

She ran down the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the wooden floor leaving a red trail behind her, to her brother’s room and wrenched the door open. She already knew what she would find. Collapsing to her knees she cried out in anguish, her head in her hands. Everyone was dead, mutilated. The ultimate desecration and betrayal...

She could bare it no more. Bursting from the front door, she ran through the forest, her vampire feet taking her further and faster than she had ever been. The Romans had come looking for her. They were no longer concerned with her family’s secrets, content to kill them to send her a message. Finally
,  when
she could run no more, she collapsed in a clearing, howling in agony.

Aeriaya stood just inside the tree line, watching the castle of the Romans. It was bathed in the pink glow of the rising sun. The sky was crisp and clear; it would be a fine summers day.
A fine day for revenge.

She nestled herself into the bushes and waited for the light to grow, when they would be weaker. She cast her mind about like she used to, feeling for the presence of the forest about her. She felt nothing of the earth, but she knew that the Romans were inside and they were angry. They couldn't leave to search for
her,
they were trapped in the shadows until nightfall.

As the sun rose higher into early morning, she emerged from her vantage point and made her way towards the Roman's castle. The waiting had only amplified her thirst for revenge and her vision burned white hot with it. The closer she came to the outer walls, the better she could sense the life inside them.

Aeriaya walked through the main gate in a daze; it had been left open part way. The castle grounds were abandoned, the stables devoid of any life. The horses and their keepers had left, the disarray evidence they had left in a hurry. She walked calmly inside, towards the great hall, where she felt the presence of two Romans. There were dismembered bodies at irregular intervals in the hallways, slumped here and there against the walls. They were angry enough to eat their compelled help. She had come this
far,
there was no turning back now.

Standing under the stone arch, she saw Marcus and Octavia seated at the long table bickering with each other. Octavia stood with a hiss as she caught her attention. Marcus appeared in front of her and grasped her by the throat, lifting her from the ground. He growled with rage when she didn't make a sound or alter her vacant expression. Throwing her clear across the room, she slammed into the wall, several ribs cracking. The pain hardly registered.

Ignoring the throbbing in her side, she rose to her full height and collided with Marcus as he lunged for her again. She wedged her shoulder against his chest and flipped him over her, flinging him upside down against the wall, landing face first against the stone floor. Octavia darted forward, but she was thrown back onto the table, splitting it in half.

Before either of the Romans could react, her fist had punctured Marcus' chest, the blue fire that had killed Titus, burning from inside out. He screamed as much in surprise as pain as he began to turn grey, his eyes bulging with the force of his death rattle. She let go and he fell heavily to the ground, convulsing violently before becoming still.

"No!" Octavia screamed, falling on her knees beside what was left of Marcus. The second it took for the vampire to gather her grief was all it took for her to be thrown across the room again.

Before the vampire could stand, she was held against the wall with an iron grip. Pulling the dagger from Octavia's belt, Aeriaya plunged it viciously into her stomach. As the Roman struggled, the dagger was twisted deeper, tormenting her to madness and she spat blood all over her face in defiance.

"Where are they!" she screamed at the vampire, disregarding the blood.

Octavia laughed, blood running from her mouth, dripping down her chin, "They're not here, witch. But they will come for you, once they find out what you've done. And they will make it
slow
."

"Not if I find them first," she snarled, the blue fire searing down her arm into the dagger. Octavia's scream chilled her blood as she began to turn a sickly grey, her eyes sinking back into her skull, finally turning to ash as the life left her.

She let the dagger go, Octavia's body slumping to the floor. Regarding the two desiccated Romans, she strolled calmly from the castle into the yard. Across the way, she saw a stone pit where a fire still burnt. She grabbed two torches and lit them in the unattended flame. With her fast vampire feet she darted through the castle, lighting every piece of fabric and furniture she could find, her body a blur. Lastly, she set ablaze the stables and even the main gate as she left.

Turning, she began to walk. The sun had set before she stopped at the base of a hill that rose from the green fields in a break from the forest. Numbly, she began to climb. When she could ascend no more, she sat upon the hilltop, watching the fierce glow of the still burning castle on the horizon. Arturius and his two brothers were still alive out there somewhere, so was the witch Katrin. They would be hunting her, even more now that she had destroyed the castle. The anguish at the loss of her self and the brutal murder of her family and friends was beginning to sink in and she felt a blind hate at the monster she had become.

What was she going to do now?

S
am was worried about a lot of things lately. Ever since Zac had woken up, he'd had to look over both their shoulders. Arturius was still lurking about doing god knows what, Zac was a hairs breadth away from snapping and he hadn't a clue what to do about any of it. The Roman had no reason to stay after he had ambushed Aya, but he lingered about, seemingly enjoying prodding his brother closer to the edge.

Liz had told him in confidence that Gabby said there was always a loophole, a way around a spell. But so far, they hadn't found one for the spell that had created the Romans. Hell, they didn't even know what the spell
was
. It was entirely possible that it had died along with Aya and Katrin. Alex had gone to call his sister, Isobel. Apparently she was an expert in this kind of thing. Ancient legends.

Sam stood by his bedroom window and looked down at his brother, who was sitting on the bench in the overgrown garden with his back to the house. His shoulders were hunched and he looked absolutely defeated. He had no idea what to do. He'd never seen this kind of reaction in Zac before, not even the lure of revenge and violence could draw him out. It was as if he'd just given up. And Zac never gave up.

"Just give him some time." Liz was behind him, gazing through the window. "He'll be okay."

Sam sighed, turning to embrace her. "I don't know Liz. I don't know if he's coming back this time."

"I can go talk to him if you want."

"Yeah," he whispered. "Nothing I say seems to get through to him. Maybe he'll listen to you."

She smiled, nodding as she crossed the room. He had no idea what she was going to say, but she'd better say something.

Zac stared across the yard, watching the distant grass blowing back and forth in the slight breeze. What was he meant to do now? What was he going to do before all of this happened? He had no idea.
If you don't know, then you could do anything.
 Her words echoed in his memory and he pushed them aside.

He wasn't sure what it was about the garden that she had liked. She'd sit here for hours, doing whatever it was she did. The longer he sat there, the further away she seemed. He saw the silver haired woman from his dream, how at ease she had been in the forest, happy. His thoughts wandered to that night when they'd gone to the silo near Memphis, to free her from Caius. She had apologized to him, hallucinating that he was her long dead brother, she was sorry that she couldn't save him. There was no understanding it at the time, but now
;
he had seen her slaughtered family through her memories and felt her pain.

If he learned one thing in the army, it was how to whittle. Weighing the stake he held in his hand, he found it well balanced. Perfect for the job. It would be so easy, to plunge it through his heart, to stop the pain. He could die like he was meant to in 1865. It wasn't a bullet, but close enough.

If he learned one thing about being a vampire, it was how to kill one. He placed the stake between his ribs at an angle.
The fastest way to his heart without any annoying bone to slow it down.
It would only hurt for a second,
then
he could rest. He took a few sharp breaths through his teeth, the point of the stake pressing through the cotton of his shirt into flesh, drawing a few beads of blood. It would only take a second.

Suddenly, he was pushed backwards off the bench onto the ground, the stake torn from his grasp. He stared up at the sky, blinking in the sunlight. His face was cast in shadow as Liz stood above him, her expression dripping with anger. He was annoyed that she'd stopped him, but he remained silent, his expression blank.

"What the hell, Zac!" she yelled at him.

He sat up stiffly, perching on the bench again, elbows resting on his knees. Liz crouched in front of him, but he looked over her shoulder into empty space.

"What do you think you're doing?" She grabbed his wrists, staring up at him horrified.

He didn't know what to say, so he just shrugged.

"Don't do this. I know it hurts," she pleaded. "We need you, Zac."

"I don't know why," he said, focusing on her face for the first time. "I've never been well adjusted."

"Zac," she whispered, placing a gentle hand on his cheek. "Give it some time. We'll be here for you. You're not alone in this."

Glaring at her, he pulled away abruptly. "Has anyone you loved died? A grandparent, a friend?"

"Sure, my grandparents are all passed…" she began.

"Well, then think of how much it hurt to lose them, then times that by a billion. Even then, you wouldn't be close." 

Liz stared at him for a moment, not knowing what to say to help him feel better. She wanted him back, even if it was the sarcastic ass he was before. Sitting beside him, she took his hand. When he didn't pull away she said, "Don't. Just don't do that again, okay?" She let the tears fall from her eyes.

"Fine," he spat, standing up. "I won't do myself in. But I'm not promising I won't let anyone else."

He stalked across the yard and was gone so fast, whatever Liz was going to say dying on the breeze behind him.

Gabby had no desire to work today, but still sat at her desk staring blankly at the monitor that displayed an endless stream of emails. Her thoughts kept coming back to her predicament, despite trying to work through the massive to do list she'd compiled.
The thing inside of her that was clamoring to get out.

"Gabby!" The excited squeal of the Real Estate's receptionist, Bianca filtered through the office, breaking through her melancholy.

Before Gabby could get up and go see what all the fuss was about, she caught sight of Bianca running down the hallway with a bunch of flowers. Not just any flowers; roses. 

"Looks like you've got a secret admirer," Bianca trilled, setting them on Gabby's desk.

"Why do you say secret?" she asked, winking.

"You haven't got a boyfriend and if you had a date, you would have told me about it."

Gabby laughed, "How do you know me so well?"

"Woman's intuition," Bianca smiled, walking back out to reception.

Gabby sighed, picking up the flowers.
Five red roses, all the color of blood.
 

They were a message that only she would know the significance of. Five was a scared witches number
;
the five points of a pentagram.
The five elements.
The five founding witches.
Their abnormally deep red color was a dead give away and the fact that the thorns had been left on the stems. They could only have come from one person.

Opening the card, she snorted as she read the message.
Love, Arturius
.
Ugh. 

She leant back in her chair and rubbed her temples. Why the hell was that freak still hanging around? And why was he sending her flowers? She had to find a way to end him before it was too late. Whatever kind of game he thought he was playing, he could just play it by himself.

"Gabrielle."

Jumping at the sound of a familiar and unwelcome voice, she turned to find Arturius leaning against the partition around her desk.

"What the hell," she cursed, flinging the card into the trash.

His eyes narrowed slightly at the gesture, but his lips curved into a grin. "Do you like the flowers?"

"No, no I don't."

"I know how you witches are with your numbers." He lightly stroked the stem of one of the roses, ignoring her tone.

"I'm not a traditional witch, Arturius. I wasn't brought up that way."

"No, you weren't, were you?" he mused. "You thought you were normal."

"How did you get in here?" she hissed.

"You know exactly how," he stared at her with cool eyes.

Snorting, she knew he'd compelled everyone in the office to ignore his presence. She wished she could just ignore him. "Whatever you're trying to do, forget about it. Your flattery won't get anywhere with me."

Arturius laughed, and sat on the edge of her desk. "You're so spirited, Gabrielle. That's what I like about you."

"Eat shit, Arturius."

He smirked at her blatant, childish insult. "There's a prime example."

"I'm not going to help you."

"You don't even know why I'm here, love." He lent closer, making her inch backwards.

"I don't want to know," she sneered. "Aya was a friend.
A friend that you killed in cold blood.
Why would I even listen to you?"

Arturius scoffed, "You think she was your friend? She may have revealed her true self to you Gabrielle, but that was only out of necessity. Do you think she would have done it voluntarily?"

She glared at the Roman, knowing that he was probably right. But, Aya had tried to help her in her own way. She had been limited in the information she could let go of. She had attempted to push her into going to see her grandmother and Gabby wondered if she knew that their meeting would result in her finding her true powers. Knowing Aya now, that was entirely possible.

"Don't be so naive, love. A creature of power should never have been turned. It was my mistake to correct. And wouldn't you know? I'm a man of my word."

"Fuck off, Arturius."

To her annoyance, he ignored her and said, "I have access to something you want."

"And what might that be?" she sneered.

"Control."

She couldn't help it when her eyes widened slightly. How did he know?

"C'mon, Gabrielle," he laughed. "Give me a little credit. A witch with a power as natural and deep as yours needs help controlling it. You've been fumbling around in the dark and you know it."

She pursed her lips, waiting to see what else he was going to say.

"I'm offering my help."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want, Gabrielle. My intentions are noble."

"You have something I want," she cocked her head to the side. "So, what do you want in return?"

Arturius smirked and looked at his watch. "Time flies, Gabrielle, love. Think about my offer. You'll know where to find me when you come round."