Revenire Read online

  Daniel leaned to the side, looking around Jelani at the girls across the street. When he straightened and looked back at him, Jelani saw no friendliness there. Those brown eyes were not that of a friend. “You gonna stand there with your mouth gaping like that until you catch a bug or a bird or something?”

  Jelani struggled for something, anything, to say. “How—”

  “How do you think?” Daniel snapped.

  Jelani blinked. “I saw you, man. You were dead. That big son of a bitch killed you. I tried to get there in time, but I didn’t. How are you alive?”

  Daniel rolled his eyes. “Has lack of sun slowed your brain?”

  Jelani flinched as if he’d been slapped. Daniel had never spoken to him with such venom. “Dude, I understand if you’re mad at me, but just try—”

  Daniel came at him, punching and kicking a flurry of combinations that were both familiar and surprisingly fast. He avoided every attack, trying not to hurt his friend. He ducked a roundhouse kick at his head, came in close, and shoved Daniel away.

  “C’mon man, stop!” Despite his enhanced abilities since being turned, Jelani found Daniel to be the same challenge to him he’d always been when they used to spar. This wasn’t sparring, though. It felt like his best friend was trying to do real damage. “Daniel, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You still don’t get it,” Daniel said, snickering.

  Jelani narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying not to hurt you—”

  Daniel laughed and came at him again, this time with even more ferocity. Jelani found himself hard pressed to avoid his friend’s attacks. They had always been somewhat equally matched, but Daniel was slightly stronger while Jelani had always been quicker. After another round, Jelani realized he was avoiding Daniel’s attacks for no good reason. Not like he can hurt me. Why not let him hit me and get it out of his system?

  Jelani let his guard down and Daniel, smirking, punched him square in the chest. Jelani’s surprise was complete when he found that not only did the blow hurt like hell, but it knocked him back at least a dozen feet. He landed hard on his back, but rolled to his feet, staring in shock at the slowly approaching Daniel. What the hell?

  Daniel lunged with a series of kick combinations, then straight punches. Finally, he came in with a roundhouse punch that Jelani caught with his hand. His eyes widened when, despite his best effort, Daniel resisted him. A thin smile crept across his friend’s face and he yanked his fist away.

  Both men retreated a few steps and regarded each other, Daniel with amusement, Jelani with undisguised shock.

  Seeing the look on his face, Daniel laughed at him again. “Okay. Maybe I didn’t give you time to think.”

  “About what …” Jelani started to ask when he remembered. Daniel lying motionless in a pool of what was no doubt his own blood, the big man with the thick goatee leaning over him. Jelani remembered the strength of the guy, and how he had referred to Jelani as something apart from what he was. A blood, he’d called him. Jelani’s eyes widened when he remembered the blood all over the man’s mouth. “No. No way, man.”

  Daniel’s smirk deepened. “And the lumbering wheels in your mind begin to turn.”

  Jelani took a step back. “That guy was … was a …”

  Once again Daniel rolled his eyes. “He was a lycan, Jelani. A lycanthrope if you prefer to use all the syllables.”

  “A lycan?” Jelani whispered.

  “That’s the term I prefer. It has a sort of catchy ring to it, don’t you think?” Daniel looked to the sky. “Lycan. That does have a really cool ring.” He noticed Jelani still staring at him and lifted his hands and let them drop at his sides. “How long is it gonna take for you to get over the shock? It was funny at first but now it’s getting annoying.”

  “Dude I’m … I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Between trying to hunt down Remy, and all these other Hunters slinking around everywhere—”

  “You can drop the violin, Jelani,” Daniel said. His voice dipped dangerously low with each word. “I don’t need it.”

  They stared at each other for a while. Burning guilt seared Jelani’s mind so that he couldn’t think of anything to say. “So, what now? It seems like you hate me, and I can’t say I blame you. Maybe you want to kill me, I don’t know. I do know that werewolves and vampires seem to be predisposed to dislike each other, so I guess I’ve got a lot of chips stacked against me on this.”

  “Seeing you makes my world go red,” Daniel said. “I don’t know if it’s because of what I am now, or the fact that Wen’s lost to me. All I know is that I’m a monster, my fiancée has no memory of me, and I apparently belong to some pack. I feel a rage that makes me want to tear you apart and I’m not sure if it’s because you’re a vampire or you’re just you.”

  “I’m sorry—”

  Daniel was suddenly right in his face. He grabbed Jelani by his jacket and lifted him off the ground. “WILL YOU FUCKING STOP SAYING THAT!” He hurled Jelani away with such force, he flew over the roof and across the street, slammed into the neighboring building and fell sixty feet to the ground.

  “That hurt,” Jelani groaned, picking himself off the ground. He heard a gasp and looked further down the sidewalk to see a wide-eyed girl staring at him. She had her fists over her mouth and her eyes so wide they looked like they would fall out of their sockets.

  Jelani held up a hand as he climbed to his feet. “S’all right,” he rasped. By the time he had fully straightened, the pain was gone as if it were never there. “Just slipped and had a little fall, that’s all.”

  The girl said nothing, just looked up the side of the building—where there were no low balconies or ladders or stairs—then back at him. There was nothing he could say, so he simply smiled, waved, and turned the other way.

  Once he’d rounded the corner of the building, he leaned against the wall and looked up at the sky. A tiny droplet of water spattered on his forehead. Then another. A minute later, the rain came on in full and he was soaked through his clothes. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Fitting.”

  Chapter 3

  Remy stared out the window, his self-satisfied smile hadn’t left his face since escaping Yako and boarding his private jet. Those months living in that dive of a motel room had paid off—at least to a small degree—in that he now commanded the Northwest Coven and was afforded the coven’s private jet. Yako would follow, but let the lowly Hunter squat in the back of a plane, hoping no one opens a window shade and drenches him in sunlight.

  Remy smirked at the thought. Wouldn’t that be the grandest of ironies? The former Eldest Hunter, sitting in coach and killed by a clueless human passenger who opened a window shade to get some sun. As much as he hated Yako, he knew the man wouldn’t be so careless. Still, it was a pleasant thought.

  “What will you do once we reach Peles, Eldest?” It was Marcos De La Vega, one of the few Hunters that remained at Remy’s disposal. The Northwest Coven had taken a sizable loss under Remy’s leadership and he was forced to grudgingly leave all but two Hunters and a Reaper behind. He’d had to think quickly to avoid being thrown into the sun’s deadly embrace by what was left of the coven’s leadership. Massius’s hand in his ascension could only stretch so far, and if Remy hadn’t so effectively villainized Yako and made him the focus of the losses, Remy was sure he would be no more than dust, charring under the hateful gaze of the sun.

  “Prepare,” was all he said, not bothering to look away from the window. After a lingering moment, he heard De La Vega’s retreating footsteps. The man didn’t like him, but he was obedient, and that was all that mattered. His thoughts turned from Yako to Melinda. He had been loath to depart Vancouver without her, but there had been no time. He’d thought her killed in the conflict when he couldn’t feel her mind, but later learned the truth when he felt her awareness return. She’d likely been unconscious. Remy found it convenient that she’d regained full awareness once his plane was about to take off and his influence over her would be weakened b
y the distance.

  Thoughts of his now wayward fledgling brought Jelani to his mind, and the smile left Remy’s face. What was it about that one that placed him out of Remy’s control? It was like his mind was closed off. Death should have been the only thing that could sever his connection with one of his creations, but there he was, not only resistant to compulsion, but by all appearances coming after him beside Yako. That thought grated on Remy’s ego more than he wanted to admit.

  “You’re thinking about your new creation, running loose without a leash.”

  This time Remy did look over his shoulder. Scarlene stood behind him, leaning with most of her weight on her right foot, hand on her hip, as was typical. She winked at him. Remy would have liked nothing more than to take her in the back room of the jet, but he couldn’t be sure what she thought of him. Even when the coven was under the old rule before Remy had taken over, Scarlene had never been one he could easily read. Dealing with her was like dealing with a particularly lethal cat. One minute you’re stroking its head, then it bites you without warning.

  “The situation is a mystery to me,” he admitted.

  “Maybe you were a little too excited when you fed on him.”

  Remy frowned. “Explain.”

  Scarlene shrugged. “Maybe the foolish human lore about us is grounded in a tiny morsel of truth. Maybe you created your own little revenire.”

  Remy rolled his eyes. “Why, Scarlene. Must you be so poetic about everything? Revenire?” He smirked at her. “I hardly think that I killed him and he simply came back from death.” In response, Scarlene winked at him again.

  He sighed and turned back to the window. She knew just how far to push him without crossing a line. He had to tolerate it for now, but once Massius took control of the High Council, and Remy was firmly in place as his most trusted coven leader and Eldest Hunter, Remy would remember all the sarcasm and snide remarks. And he would take her whenever and wherever he chose, and there would be nothing she would be able to do about it.”

  His grin returned.

  Chapter 4

  Curious, Yako thought as he avoided swipe after swipe of his opponent’s sword. Not more than ten minutes had passed since he’d released Jelani to check on his former human companions when the attack came. Four vampires—not Hunters, but four fighters obviously aspiring to the rank—had converged on his location, all equipped with swords made of pure silver. All with his death in their eyes.

  Yako ducked a cut aimed at his neck and at the same time, stabbed his sword out to the left. There was a grunt, and the impaled vampire stumbled away and crumbled to the ground. When Yako straightened, he saw the mounting apprehension in the last assailant’s eyes. They had attacked him as one, and now only this one remained.

  Yako didn’t bother to parry the forward stab at his midsection, he simply used a gloved hand to slap the blade aside, and countered with a downward swipe, cutting his adversary across the shoulder. The other man gasped and retreated, but Yako paced him step for step.

  “Why are you here?” The Eldest Hunter demanded in an even voice. In response, the other man spun and brought his sword around and down.

  Yako sighed as he spun in the opposite direction, placing himself under and outside the descending sword. With his opponent’s back to him, Yako struck him a shallow cut across his back. The would-be Hunter cried out and turned to face him again. Yako shook his head. The man’s stance was better suited to pull a groin muscle.

  “Whoever your instructor is, he should meet the sun for his lacking abilities as a teacher. I am unsure you would be able to defeat a human.” He ducked another slash at his head, then leaned aside to avoid the returning stab at his heart. “You are slow and your technique is basic.” He sidestepped a vertical slash. “You are unprepared and there are gaping holes in your defense.”

  As if to demonstrate, Yako snapped his foot up and kicked his opponent squarely in the face. He stumbled back and the Eldest Hunter again paced him. He dropped to a crouch and swept his leg around, tripping the other man and sending him crashing to the ground. As soon as the vampire’s back hit the ground, Yako’s black-coated blade was at his throat.

  The Eldest Hunter saw in his eyes that the other vampire knew he would be dead if Yako had wished it. He glanced down at the sword, less than a hair’s breadth from his neck. When he looked up, Yako read the question written on his face. “Yes,” he said. “I am going to kill you. If you tell me who sent you and why, I will make your uncreation swift. If not, I will cut you apart and you will be conscious of it all. It will be infinitely painful.”

  Finally, the other vampire spoke. “I would pledge my allegiance to you, Eldest Hunter, if you would spare me.”

  “Your allegiance is not and never was an option. You broke it the moment your intentions were to oppose me. That decision was your death.”

  He touched the silver blade to the man’s neck, and the skin started to blister. The man growled in pain. “I had no choice! I was ordered to—”

  “I will not ask again,” Yako interrupted.

  The other vampire considered him, then nodded. “Remy has taken control of the coven and was named Eldest Hunter.”

  Yako repressed his irritation. He knew this already. “What of the coven leaders? Where are Bakden and Clairese?”

  “Dead,” the other vampire said. “Remy arrived with an escort from Peles Coven and orders direct from the High Council to remove them.”

  “I’m finding it difficult to believe that Remy could depose Bakden and Clairese,” Yako replied. “Not armed with little more than a forged note and a handful of disloyal Hunters.”

  The man shook his head, or tried to. He glanced down at the stinging blade and back to Yako. When he saw that the Eldest Hunter had no intention of moving the sword even an inch, he continued. “Remy arrived with a writ signed by the High Council, but not with a handful of Hunters. He was there with two Hunters and a Reaper.”

  Yako frowned, the equivalent of open shock by anyone else. He stared into the eyes of the man beneath him and saw no lie. How had Massius managed to send a Reaper with Remy? That would have required Vicken’s consent, which was unlikely.

  “I don’t need to tell you that two good Hunters and a Reaper could probably take down a whole coven,” he continued. “Or most of it, at least.”

  “The statement jarred Yako from his private thoughts. Two Hunters and a Reaper? “You’re certain?”

  The other vampire misunderstood the question. He looked at Yako as if he were insane, but quickly erased the expression. “I don’t think I could mistake anyone for Marcus and Berius.”

  Yet another shock, and this one the worst yet. “Marcus and Berius …” Yako repeated, more to himself than to his captive.

  “Yes,” the man responded. “I would rather be anywhere else than in the presence of a Reaper, but those two? I’d rather be on the other side of the world than anywhere near them.”

  Yako found his cowardice distasteful, but he could understand the sentiment. He stood and held out a hand. The other vampire stared at the proffered hand in disbelief then took it. Yako pulled him to his feet.

  “Eldest Hunter,” he said, bowing in obeisance. “Please understand that I would have never—”

  Yako spun away, his sword flashing in an arc at his side and then in its sheath on his back. He walked away from the now silent vampire behind him. “I understand,” he replied to the heavy thud, as the man’s head hit the ground.

  Yako wended his way through the downtown streets of Vancouver, moving in the direction of Richmond. It was a long walk, Richmond being a half-hour drive away in good traffic. There was no hurry, though. Because of the length of the flight to Romania, he wouldn’t be able to leave till tomorrow anyway.

  What he needed was time to think things through, and digest all that he’d learned. Remy taking control of the Northwest Coven, Hunters and civilian vampires following Remy’s orders, no communication from either of the coven’s leaders. Remy’s continu
ed presence in the city despite leading numerous vampires and Hunters to their deaths. And Marcus and Berius; and a Reaper.

  “Hey man!” A random passerby stopped to admire the sword strapped to his back. “Is that a hand braided hilt—”

  “Turn around and walk across the street,” Yako commanded.

  The human’s eyes glazed over and he turned around and began walking across the street. Three cars slammed on their brakes, skidding to a stop barely five feet away. Horns blew and angry voices shouted expletives, but the man continued to make his dazed way across the street. Once he’d made it to the sidewalk, he stopped and blinked a couple times, looking in confusion at the angry stares and mouthed insults flying at him.

  Yako never broke his stride. Buried in his thoughts, he was already over the hill and out of sight by the time the human had crossed the street.

  Marcus and Berius. They were known as the savage twins, though the only thing that related them was their propensity for violence and a mutual distaste for harmony. They were true warriors, Yako had to admit, but in body only. In mind, they were imbalanced and volatile. The one time Yako had met them, he’d seen it in their eyes. The only thing that kept those two in check was the unity of the High Council.

  Yako had even seen them sizing up Braggus Rayne on occasion, which left him to question their sanity. Only one living in the grip of madness would look upon Eldest Reaper Braggus Rayne and see a potential challenge.

  The presence of a Reaper along with Marcus and Berius with that signed writ would have lent Remy the credibility he needed to take control of the Northwest Coven. As the elite and highest ranking enforcers of vampiric law, Reapers were answerable only to the Elders. If a Reaper arrived at Remy’s back along with those two, it was because an Elder had sent them. High ranking purebloods they may have been, but Clairese and Bakden were outranked and stood no chance. Had it been a legitimate writ, sent by Vicken or one of the other Council members, there would at least have been a formal trial. That was, of course, the last thing Massius and Remy would have wanted.