Dark Season: The Complete Box Set (14 page)

Rose Tisser

Today

He's come back to me. After all these years, and he doesn't look a day older. I just wish I could push all the other voices back and speak to him one last time. More than that, I wish he'd let me die. All these years, alone in that bed with just the voices for company. It's agony. I want it to stop. Please, God, let me die.

Sophie

Today

Rose loosens her grip on me, enough for me to slip away. With her attention apparently focused on Patrick, I back into the corner of the room.

"We have been in this vessel for many years," Rose says, shuffling slowly toward Patrick. "You were... wise to trap us here, but... unwise not to kill us."

Patrick stares at her. He hasn't even acknowledged my presence in the room.

"There will... always be a place for Sentinels in this... world," Rose says as she nears Patrick. "We will... have to take her body... for now... We will return it... when we can, although you will be aware that... certain damage is unavoidable."

She reaches out a hand to touch Patrick's shoulder, but he grabs the hand and with one quick, hard move he snaps her wrist.

Rose looks at what he's done, but she doesn't seem to be in any pain. "You see... why we need... another... body." She turns to me. "It has already begun," she says. "We... just need... to finish."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, looking at Patrick, hoping for some kind of explanation.

"We just need to... touch you... a little more," says Rose. She's almost reached me again, but Patrick has done nothing. Whose side is he on here?

"Patrick," I say. "Are you going to do anything about this?"

"Quiet," says Rose as she reaches me. "The Sentinels are ready to return now. We have hidden in here for so long." She fixes me with her dead eyes. "Ten thousand of us in... one body... the perfect hiding place... but so... crowded."

I try to slip past her, but she's much stronger now and she grabs me, forcing me against the wall. I feel heat in the grip she has on me.

"Patrick!" I shout, but he just stands there. For the first time, he has a look of helplessness on his face, as if he wants to do something but can't. "Patrick!" I shout. "Do something!"

"Relax," says Rose. "We will... give you this body back when we are finished with it... after we have... found others... thousands of others." She cracks a smile. Literally. The skin on her face, unused to moving for half a century, splits at each corner of her mouth.

It's at that moment that Patrick comes over. Standing behind Rose, he puts one hand on her shoulder, one hand under her chin, and with a single sharp movement he pulls her head completely off her body. As blood sprays from the gaping hole at the top of her neck, her severed head falls to the ground with a heavy thump, and her body topples down onto the carpet. I stare down in horror as blood leaks out, and then I look at Patrick.

He stares at me for a moment. It feels as if his eyes are looking straight into my soul; suddenly, with no warning at all, everything goes black.

Rose Tisser

Today

They're dying. All of them. Thousands and thousands of voices, crying out in pain. They have nowhere to go, and finally they're dead and I'm left all alone. I want to speak, to reach out and touch Patrick one final time, but the world has already become dark and silent. As I die, at least I have the satisfaction of knowing that I got my body back at the end, albeit for just a moment. And Patrick saved me. It took him so many years, but he finally came back and saved me from this horror. As my life slips away, at least I experience one final moment of peace.

Sophie

Today

I open my eyes and I immediately realize that time has passed. I'm not in Rose's room anymore. I look around and see that I'm in a room at Patrick and Vincent's underground house. Patrick must have carried me here after he... oh yeah, after he punched me. It's starting to come back now. I sit up and - No, wait - I don't sit up, because I'm tied to the sofa.

"Don't struggle," says Vincent, who I realize is standing close by. "It'll do no good, and it won't help your cause."

"My cause?" I ask, trying to get free. "What's going on?"

I look over to the other side of the room and see Patrick watching me.

"Let me go," I say, trying to stay calm.

"We can't," says Vincent. "We don't know what she did to you." He leans over me and seems to be peering at my eyes. "You're a fool, by the way. What were you thinking, going near that woman?"

"I wanted answers," I say, struggling with the ties that hold me down. "Get me out of here."

"All in due course," he says, but I see the look he gives Patrick, and it's not a happy or optimistic one. "First we need to run a few tests. After all, I'm sure you'll understand that we can't risk another Rose Tisser."

I try to get my hands free. "What happened to her?" I ask, to distract them while I work.

"We made a mistake," Vincent says. He glares at Patrick for a moment. "Well, one of us did. Still, it would have been okay if you hadn't woken her up. She only had a few more years left, and then she would have just died. That's what was supposed to happen."

One of my hands is almost free. This is working, but I need to keep Vincent talking. "What was inside her?" I ask. "The voice said 'we', as if something was inside."

Vincent nods. "Sentinels. Created by the vampires to act as independent observers of the great war. But they didn't stay independent for long. They were supposed to be completely incorruptible, but of course that only helped to turn them into monsters. They became evil and cruel, and like the worst monsters they were utterly convinced that they were right. The only solution was to trap them, all of them. And then wait for the vessel in which they were trapped to die."

"That's what Rose was?" I ask. "A vessel?"

"It was unfortunate. If we'd killed her at the start, none of this would have happened. Sadly..." He looks up at Patrick again. "Sadly, emotions ruled the day. Patrick couldn't bring himself to do it. He showed too much compassion, and in doing so he accidentally let that poor woman suffer for another half century while she waited to die."

At that moment, I get both my hands free and I push Vincent away. Before I can get anywhere, however, Patrick has reached me and is holding me back down again. His face is pushed right up close to mine, a look of pure violence in his eyes. He hisses, bearing his teeth at me.

"No!" Vincent shouts, trying to push Patrick away. "She's not infected! I'm sure of it!"

"Infected?" I ask. "By what?"

"By the last Sentinels," Vincent says. "When the vampires turned on them, they had to hide. Where do you hide ten thousand frightened souls? You pour them into one single body and you hope that the body can hold them until it's safe to come out. And if that body can't hold them, you hop from body to body."

I'm finding this hard to get my head around. "Rose Tisser's body contained ten thousands of these Sentinel things?"

Vincent nods. "Can you imagine? Ten thousands other souls in your own mind. We thought it would be safe to leave her there in bed, just waiting for her body to die out. It seemed easier than taking responsibility and actually killing her ourselves." He looks at Patrick again, almost as if he's angry. "We took the easy way out and waited for nature to take its course." He looks back at me. "I need you to concentrate, Sophie. I need you to listen very carefully."

"I'm listening," I say.

"No. Listen to yourself. Ignore all other sounds. Listen to your own mind and tell me what you hear."

I'm quiet for a moment. "Nothing."

"Harder," says Vincent. "Listen to your mind and tell me if you hear anything that shouldn't be there. Any voices, any murmurs at the back, anything that could indicate that you're not alone in there. And don't lie. I promise you, we'll know if you lie."

I listen to my own mind. Somewhere in the depths, I can hear my mother's voice, talking to my father back when we all still lived together. I can hear myself talking to my little brother, and I can hear Shelley laughing at something. I can hear my Dad's girlfriend talking about her art gallery. I can hear the sound of Patrick breathing as he stands behind me in my bathroom back at home, his hands on my body. And I can hear Adam, telling me it's okay and he'll wait for me. But that's all I can hear. I swear.

"Nothing," I say. "There's really nothing."

Vincent stares at me for what seems like the longest time. "I believe her," he says eventually. "I can tell. She's telling the truth." He reaches out to set me free, but Patrick stops him. "She's telling the truth, Patrick!" Vincent insists. "Rose's body was weak, there wasn't time for them to cross into Sophie." He tries to free me again, but Patrick keeps staring at me.

"I swear," I say. "I promise there's nothing. I'd know! There are no voices! Just the usual crap." I have visions of myself in a hospital bed for the rest of my life, in a coma while Patrick waits for me to die. Or worse, perhaps he'll just rip my head off like he did with Rose. "Please," I say, and Patrick loosens his grip. I get straight off the sofa and turn to face the pair of them.

"I'm sorry," says Vincent. "We had to know."

"Who was she to you?" I ask Patrick. "Was she your lover? Your girlfriend?"

Patrick shakes his head. That's possibly the most direct communication between us since we met.

"Is that how all the women in your life end up? Old and abandoned by you, while you move on to the next young one?" I know I shouldn't be saying this, but I almost died today. Twice! I think I'm entitled to go a little off the deep end here. "Are you gonna do to me what you did to Rose? Are you gonna put me in a coma and leave me to rot? Why did you let her live? Why didn't you kill her all those years ago? Isn't that what monsters do? They kill people."

"You're being unfair," Vincent says, interrupting me. "Patrick made a mistake. You're right, he should have killed Rose a long time ago, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He killed the other girl, but he couldn't do the same to Rose. His feelings for her were different."

Turning to Patrick, I realize that maybe I've been a little harsh. "Sorry," I say. "I shouldn't have called you a monster."

Without saying anything, Patrick turns and walks away. Great, now it looks like I've offended him.

"He's lonely," I say quietly, watching him disappear through the doorway.

"He's a thousand years old," Vincent replies. "Of course he's lonely."

Sighing, I realize that one way or another, Patrick eventually loses everyone. All he can do is try to replace them. But even the replacements get lost in the end.

"He wanted you to have this," Vincent says, taking a small book from the desk and handing it to me. Looking at it, I realize I've seen it before. It's Rose Tisser's diary, the one that Patrick took from me so forcefully. I guess he changed his mind. I guess he decided he wanted me to read it after all.

"Wait!" I call out, hurrying out of the room and running after Patrick. By the time I get out of the house, though, there's no sign of him. Holding the diary in my hand, I realize I might have misjudged Patrick. He might get things wrong from time to time, and he might use violence when another approach could be better, but he's definitely not a monster. I need to find out more about him, and I need to make sure that, in the process, I don't anger him or do anything else that makes the prophecy come true.

Epilogue

Entry from Rose Tisser's diary, dated 20th May 1959

Sometimes I get so very frustrated by Patrick's silence. I wish I could meet a boy who can actually hold a conversation. Then again, there's something rather dashing about his manner. Over time, I've learned to notice ways in which he communicates without words. Small gestures here and there. Sometimes, I feel as if he really
does
talk to me, in his own way, and if I ever feel that he's being silent, it's only because I haven't yet worked out how to understand him properly.

Book 3

Army of Wolves

Prologue

All around us, there are wolves. Thousands of them. But when the three of us are together, we're too powerful. They're too scared to come near us, even though they're snarling and straining with frustration at not being able to leap forward and rip us to pieces. To be honest, it's all a wee bit unwelcoming.

Patrick doesn't show an ounce of fear, of course. Never does. I sometimes wonder what the fuck's going through that mind of his. Then there's Cassandra. I know she's scared. I can see it in her eyes. But that's only 'cause I know her so well. To anyone else, she seems fearless and bold.

The Alpha Wolf is at the front. He doesn't really care about Patrick and Cassandra. It's me he wants. I did something he can never forget, something he can never forgive, and if he's to protect his alpha status in the pack, he has to be seen to deal with me. In ordinary circumstances, he'd have ripped me apart years ago and stuck my head on a pole at the gates of Sangreth.

But I've got these friends...

Patrick doesn't speak, and my voice is unwelcome here, so Cassandra does all the talking. She offers them the deal that will secure my freedom and give them what they want. It's a good deal. Hell, it's a fucking
great
deal. But the Alpha Wolf has to protect his honor He has to show his pack that he always gets what he wants. Good job, then, that Cassandra's so persuasive.

As the Alpha Wolf and Cassandra walk away together, Patrick and I exchange a glance, and then we leave, walking past the thousands of gathered wolves. Every step, I consider turning back to save Cassandra. But I know I can't. This is how it has to be. We're both lucky that our destinies happened to coincide so nicely. Besides, she'll be okay. Eventually.

And now I have exactly one hundred years before I need to worry about those fucking wolves again. One hundred years, eh? Sounds like forever.