Hecate's Gift (Ari & Soren Book 2)

Chapter 9 - Soren

I knew I made a mistake the moment Ari's face had taken on that stoic, determined look he gets when he's in pain; the look he thinks I don't know for what it is.

I should have apologized and explained myself. I should have told him what I'd learned from my father, as well as of my meeting with Tlalli. Instead, I had let him go, locked in my own silence.

Then, when the sound of his old jeep had faded to nothing, I'd put my fist through the kitchen wall.

It hurt astonishingly, but it had taught me two things. First, that I was strong enough to punch through granite tiles, and second, that punching through granite tiles is painful, even for a vampire.

Still, it hadn't hurt nearly as much as the look on Ari's face when he left.

I sighed. I needed to make things right, set things straight. But first, I needed to apologize to the neighbor.

Besides, I reasoned, maybe he wasn't a mwanga after all. Maybe all I'd sensed was an ancient ancestry, stirred to life by a newfound interest in magic and the occult. I'd find out soon enough.

The sun had set, and darkness filled in the spaces of the world when I headed out across the cliffs to the row of houses on the opposite side. Only one had any lights on, and the others seemed empty. Certainly, I'd seen no sign of neighbors before today.

As I approached, the scent I'd caught earlier came to me again. It smelled like red earth and acacia leaves, hot winds and the first drops of rain on dry plains. I paused at the bottom of the steps leading to the raised deck and looked up. Above, the young man from earlier leaned against the railing, watching me.

"May I come up?" I asked.

He didn't smile, and his demeanor seemed different from what I'd seen before. He shrugged. "Sure. Why not."

I climbed the steps and approached, stopping when there were several feet between us. 

"I've come to apologize," I began. "I treated you discourteously earlier. I've had a...trying day, but that's no excuse." I bowed slightly. "Can we start again?"

A crooked grin twisted his lip. "Sure. We can start again. You saw me, after all. Just like I see you, leech."

I failed to hide my surprise, and he smirked.

Recovering myself, I straightened my shoulders. "Am I that obvious?"

"Nah. I just know what to look for. And I saw the marks on your slave."

"Ari is not my slave," I snapped. This apology was not going well, but at least I knew I'd been right.

He raised a skeptical brow. "No? Usually, it's either hypnotism or blood-enslavement with you vamps." He looked me over. "But I guess with your looks I'm not surprised you'd land a sweet piece of ass like that the old-fashioned way."

As my anger spiked, I fell back on formality. "You will kindly not speak of my beloved in that manner. Do so again at your peril."

He grinned. "It's like that, is it? Alright--I can deal. Truth is, it'll make this easier."

He'd been leaning casually against the rail, but now he straightened and reached into his jacket. Instinctively, I stepped back, but when he withdrew his hand all he held was a small glass jar with a cork stopper. "You know what this is?"

He held it out, and through the clear glass, I saw a lock of black, loosely curled hair. "That's Ari's," I said automatically.

He nodded and tucked the jar back inside his jacket. "I clipped it off him this morning when he was half-drowned. Didn't even notice."

"What do you mean half-drowned? And who are you?" I took a step towards him, my control loosened by fear and anger. I felt my fangs lengthening and knew my eyes glowed with the strange gold fire of a hunting vampire.

He didn't flinch, and I had to give him credit. "That's close enough, leech," he said, holding out his hand. "You know what a witch can do with that hair, right? Well, half of it's already on its way to my people, and if anything happens to me, they'll use it."

The thought made me sick. Hair could be used to bind dark magic to someone. Whoever these people were, if they had Ari's hair they could cast spells--for illness, accident, or whatever they wished--against him, and distance wouldn't matter. They could be on the other side of the world, and it would make no difference.

"That's right--you do anything to me, and he's the one who pays for it."

"Who are you?" I asked again. My voice was cold and hollow, strange in my own ears.

He leaned back again, resting his elbows on the rail behind him. "Ever heard of the Hekataeon?" he asked.

"No," I answered, searching my memory but drawing a blank.

Shrugging, he said, "We've been watching the Lorenfields for a while. After Ari's uncle sent him the Breath of Osiris, the Priesthood had someone tail him. And man, they were not pleased when Ari disappeared right under his nose. I'm that guy's replacement." He grinned.

"What do you want with him?"

"Well, now my mission's to recruit him. But at first, I was just s'posed to determine if he's a threat, an asset, or not worth the trouble. I was leaning towards the last one 'til this morning. "

"And what, exactly, happened this morning?" My teeth were clenched together so hard my fangs bit into my bottom lip and I tasted blood.

His eyes lit with a look of intensity and interest, and the perfume of acacia leaves grew stronger.

"I saw him use magic," he said, a note like awe in his voice. "But he didn't use a spell, or a ritual, or even an incantation like the rest of us would'a had to. It was like he just...reached out and talked to it." He laughed and shook his head. "And he had no fuckin' idea what he was doing, either. He could'a been killed."

He paused and fixed me with a stare, his eyes as black as crow's wings in the dark.

"I kinda like that guy. We don't have to be enemies, you know, if you just do what we ask."

"And what is that?"

"Convince him to join us. Our High Priestess wants him on our side, but loyalty's important to her. He has to think it's his idea, or she'll never trust him."

"How am I supposed to convince him?"

"Easy. I'll invite him, you encourage him."

"And if I refuse? If he refuses?"

His face took on a hard look. It belonged to a much older man--one who had seen too much that he couldn't unsee. "If I were you, I'd make sure that doesn't happen. You have until the end of the month."

"You will regret this," I said evenly, though it felt as if my heart had become a block of ice.

"You may be right," he smiled crookedly. "But if I do, I'm sure there'll be enough regret to go around."

I wanted to rip his throat out, but instead I merely nodded. "I'd wish you a good evening, but I'm afraid the sentiment would be insincere."

Likewise," he grinned. "We'll say au revoire, then."

As I walked back along the cliffs, I could feel his gaze following me through the dark.