Dark Craving: A Watchers Novella (5 page)

“You think? I’d have guessed you’d list her safety as the primary goal.”

“It’s called honor, boy. We learned it in forty-five.”

“The year 1745 was a long time ago, McCloud. Your Scottish honor has nothing to do with vampires.” I give him a peremptory smile. “We’re friends with the Brits now, you know.”

“I’ll tell you what I do know,” he says, and I can see the smirk in his eyes already, damn him. “I reckon you’ve got a puppy crush on a lass, and it’s got your knickers in a bunch. You young bucks are all the same.”

That’s where he’s wrong. I was raised in isolation, weaned on savagery. My body might be nineteen, but my soul is old as the cave we stand in. In my heart, I’m as ancient as any vampire.

“Older doesn’t always mean wiser,” I say, and before Carden can respond, I turn to Freya. I choke down my anger, forcing myself to remember why I’ve allied with one set of vampires to take down another. Carden might be a son of a bitch and Freya power hungry, but Alcántara’s Directorate is an evil I could never destroy on my own. “I’m young, it’s true. But I’ve served you well.”

“Don’t speak to me of
serving
,” she snaps. “The time has come for you to
obey
.”

I don’t flinch because I know I obey nothing but my own heart. And my heart tells me nobody can protect Annelise like I will.

Freya’s eyes harden on me. “Perhaps you need a lesson. Shall I tell you of Sonja?” I recognize the name instantly, from the runes Annelise found carved into a cliffside. I don’t know much about the inner workings of the Directorate, but one more piece has fallen into place. “Must I tell you how Sonja, my…
sister
,” she spits, “my spoiled little sister, turned on us? She’s like a child playing at queen, and when she didn’t get her way, she took everything—our secrets, our treasures, our lore—and used it against us. Must I remind you how her perverse army of…of
boys
has nearly decimated us? It’s taken us centuries to rebuild the female vampire population. We can’t just run about biting girls, you know. Few survive the transformation. Those of the purest blood have the hardest time of all.”

I want to ask, what of the males? Sons are rare. We Tracers are few, all of us kept in ignorance. Are we also of this line? Am I? But I dare not ask such provocative questions—Freya has slaughtered people more valuable than me for less.

Carden grins and gives my arm a shake, as though he’s in a pub instead of this miserable, airless cave. “Buck up, lad. You’re just jealous that while you were off babysitting the others, I was bonding to our wee Annelise.”

I look away, unable to meet his eyes, lest he see the truth of his words there. “I helped Annelise long before you were in the picture.”

“But I’m in the picture now, aren’t I?” Carden tsks in that patronizing way of his, shaking his head at me. “Poor Ronan. Seems like you got the short end of the stick. I keep Drew
close
”—he emphasizes the word—“and you’ve only—”

I cut him off, defending myself to Freya. “Against all odds, I’ve helped keep Acari Drew alive for you.”

And yet, in my most secret of hearts is a different truth.

I’ve kept her alive for me.

“As it should be,” Freya says. She reaches up and strokes the hand of one of her lackeys. “All my girls are of the highest lineage. Annelise, too.” Her tolerant, instructive tone makes her sound like a dog trainer. “We are all family.”

I avert my eyes. This creepy “family” is the last thing Annelise would want.

“One by one,” Freya continues, “I will save the children of my children. I will make them stronger. Mine will be the most powerful coven the world has ever known.”

I struggle to make sense of her intentions. Annelise would rather die than become Vampire.

Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Annelise would want this life.

Loss—the potential of it—clouds my vision for a moment. Need stabs me. I’ve already lost so much. I will lose no more.

I remember all we’ve shared. I think back to the Directorate Challenge. It’d been at the end of her first term here, when she’d faced her nemesis and almost died. Such trials require mental strength as much as physical. I believe in my heart it was partly my support that pulled her through.

I cut my eyes to Carden. The connection I share with Annelise protects her more than any vampire guard dog could. The bond we share is stronger than any chemical reaction.

And yet he claims to love her.

Maybe I don’t know either of them at all. Carden is easy and charming in a way that makes girls want him—in a way I’ve never managed, at least not without relying on my powers. Maybe Annelise’s heart’s desire is to become Vampire and live forever by his side. Maybe.

Or maybe not. It’s a hope that keeps me going.

If I don’t know Annelise’s heart yet, there’s still time to learn.

“I’ll continue your fight in secret,” I say. I’m past nerves, past defiance. All I know is I need to get back. “You have every reason to keep me installed on
Eyja næturinnar.
”

“No,” Freya says crisply. “I need you here. We muster our forces here.
All
our forces. Sonja’s massacre of ancients decimated us, but our strength is rebuilding.”

“Please, Mistress Freya.”

She leans forward from the shadows. With her tilted head and narrowed eyes, she considers me as one might a plate of food. I don’t often resort to pleading, and she knows it. She also knows leverage when she sees it.

Suddenly, she sits back with a sharp sniff. “As you wish, Ronan. There is one way I’ll let you leave.”

“Name it,” I say too quickly. Her concession is more than I expected. I have no choice but to comply with her wishes, whatever they may be. Like any good sergeant taking orders from his general, I bow my head and brace for it. “What is my assignment?”

“If you truly wish to return, then it won’t trouble you to kill Alrik Dagursson.”

I peer up, caught off guard. “I beg your pardon?”

“Master Alrik Dagursson,” she says. Her patronizing tone makes it clear I’m trying her patience. “
He
is your assignment. Or will you refuse this request, too?”

My reaction is instant.
Can’t. Won’t.

“It’s decided,” she says calmly. “Promise me you’ll kill Dagursson, and I will allow you to return to that place. To that beloved”—she waves a dismissive hand—“
rock
of yours.”

“But—”

“There…is…no…
but
.” Her power fills the cave, surrounding me, like a force pressing on me. It feels as though the air has been sucked from the cave, making my blood roar and my skin buzz. “Unless your plan is to kill Alrik, you are forbidden to leave this island.”

I’m not even certain I understand. I’ve never been asked to assassinate a vampire—and Dagursson isn’t just any vampire. He’s one of the Directorate’s inner circle. He’s ancient. A Viking. Impossibly powerful. Likely invincible. To try to murder him would mean my death.

“You wish me to…kill him?” I repeat, buying time to think. Dying isn’t what bothers me—I know firsthand that there are worse things a man can endure. I refuse to kill Dagursson until I discover what he knows of my family.

“Yes. Kill, Ronan. You remember how to kill. You will dispatch Alrik Dagursson in whichever way you see fit. Slay him. Stake him.” She gives a bored wave of her hand. “Immolation, decapitation, exsanguination…however you wish to do it.” Her eyes meet and hold mine for a long moment. “Does this trouble you?”

I dare not tell her the truth—I won’t share my vulnerability with any vampire. “It’s too great a risk,” is the excuse I use instead. “Dagursson is powerful. If I attempt an assassination and fail, I risk exposing everything we’ve worked for. Perhaps if I were to kill Alcántara instead—”

She waves that away. “Yes, yes, I know your thoughts on Hugo. You suspect he killed your family, et cetera, et cetera. And I tell you Alcántara is just a pawn. A dog, panting for scraps. But Dagursson…” She gives a wolfish smile. “He is the keeper of their lore. He knows much about our history, our lineage. And knowledge is their primary weapon against us—take that away and they have nothing.”

I picture him in Alcántara’s office, bent over an ancient scroll. Knowledge makes him impossibly powerful. He is the keeper of Freya’s bloodline. My own.

The need to know what he knows warps my vision. “Usually I unquestioningly execute your orders, and yet—”

“Then
execute
Alrik,” she says at once. Power fills the cave even more thickly and robs the air from my lungs. “I have had enough of your impertinence, child.” Though she speaks in barely a whisper, her voice echoes painfully in my skull. “You will kill Alrik Dagursson, or I will kill your Annelise.”

An invisible force seizes my throat—clutching, squeezing, choking. It’s fear. I forgot what it felt like. “I beg your pardon?”

Candlelight catches her yellow hair and gleams. Her smile, too, gleams. She’s amused now, like a bullying schoolgirl—but her fangs, long and shining, remind me she hasn’t been a girl for over a thousand years.

Rather than answer me, she turns to address the female vampires standing at silent attention behind her. “Do you see, my daughters? Do you see how this is perhaps a good idea regardless? If Annelise were dead, then our Ronan wouldn’t want to return to his precious Isle of Night. Annelise would make a worthy vampire, it’s true”—she pauses thoughtfully—“and yet she’d be just as worthy a sacrifice. She strikes me as overly headstrong anyhow. Such a tedious trait in a young woman.” She pauses and nods with exaggerated consideration. “And to think she’s become close with Alcántara.”

“They’re not close,” I dare cut in.

She freezes. “So sure, are you?” Her eyes linger on me for a protracted moment. Finally, she shrugs. “It’s a concern nonetheless. If something happens to make me doubt her, if Annelise finds herself on the wrong side of things and becomes Alcántara’s creature…” She shakes her head in mock remorse. “I’d rather see her dead than watch her fall under the influence of the Directorate.”

I cut my eyes to Carden. Why isn’t he speaking up? But I see no outrage on his face. Does he believe this too? “What say you, McCloud?” I spit his clan name at him. “Are you so blinded by loyalty to your quest that you’d see Annelise as collateral damage?”

“
Our
quest, lad. Our quest is greater than any one person. It will outlive all of us. Annelise included.”

“Is that what your bloody Scottish honor tells you?”

“Ronan.” Freya gives a stern clap to her hands. “This is not a game. Annelise’s potential is too great—if Alcántara channels it, he’ll become too powerful. She is my flesh and blood—her fate is my decision. And I have decided you will kill Alrik. Or you’ll pay with Annelise’s life.”

Dagursson. He’s the only one who knows how to find my family. The thought consumes me.

I bow my head. Swallow my pain. There is no choice. Annelise needs my protection more than ever. “Consider it done.”

CHAPTER FOUR

I squint my eyes, trying to focus on my watch’s glowing LED numbers without breaking my stride. I thought a hard run before class would purge the noise from my head, but instead
, each pounding step of my feet is a gunshot blast spiraling thoughts through my brain.

What haven’t I taught Annelise?

What will she need?

What doesn’t she know?

What will keep her alive?

What if I fail to kill Dagursson? What if I’m killed, and Freya comes gunning for her? What if Carden is too preoccupied with his quest to protect Annelise at a critical moment? What if she is alone and needs to escape?

And there is my answer: Navigation. That’s what I’ll teach today.

I check my watch.
Bloody hell.
My pace has been too brutal—I’m way ahead of schedule. All the snow has melted, leaving mucky gravel in its place, and I skid my feet along the path to slow.

If I arrive too soon, Annelise will approach me. She’ll try to talk.

Her talk unmans me.

I have to keep my focus. It’s too easy to lose myself to dreadful what-ifs. What if Freya had prevented my return, and Annelise had thought I’d simply dropped off the face of the earth? Carden wouldn’t exactly have raced to tell her the truth about me—of that I have no doubt.

I stop completely, bend and stretch and catch my breath. My shirt is nearly soaked through, but no amount of sweat can steal the chill from my bones.

I check my watch again. Class in three. I make the slow walk down the hillside to the beach where I teach a Primitive Skills Intensive to Initiates, the few second-year Acari who remain.

Annelise is down by the shore, squatting and picking at shells. I always feel a shot of relief at the sight of her.
She is here. Alive. Safe.

Her head pops up instantly, eyes going straight to me. A smile blooms on her face.

Good Christ, seeing
me
has done this to her.

Like the sun through parting clouds, a wave of heat rolls through me, melting the knot of ice that’s been lodged in my gut since I stood in Freya’s cave. Annelise and I are here together. We are in this thing, together.