Fall of Darkness (The Chronicles of Darkness) (27 page)

BOOK: Fall of Darkness (The Chronicles of Darkness)
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Kate gasped and swatted his shoulder in
mock outrage. With a quick whiff, she knew he was right. “Then get out of here
and get me some blood. I’ll expect answers when you return.”

“Yes, princess.” Laughter danced in his
golden eyes as  Alexander retreated from her room.

Humming a chipper tune, Kate meandered
into the bathroom, to the huge tub that’d called her name since the moment
they’d met. “Hello, gorgeous,” she greeted the gleaming porcelain in her best
throaty Hollywood starlet voice, “alone at last.”

 

 

Chapter
23

 

 

Feeling fresh as a daisy and almost
human in brand name clothes she would never have justified the cost of in her
mortal life, Kate followed Alex through the labyrinth of castle corridors.  A
bubble bath and a dozen units of blood did a lot to improve a girl’s
temperament. Even better than chocolate for PMS.

Kate felt like a junkie after a long
awaited hit. At least she didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing the track
marks of her habit. Thanks to the rapid healing of immortality, her skin hardly
bore a mark where her IV had been minutes before.

Alexander halted before a staggering
pair of dark, wooden doors. Stretching high above their heads to arch
gracefully beneath the two story ceiling, the massive doors were covered in
intricate carvings. Landscapes, civilizations, and animals, covered every inch
of wood, preserved in elaborate and painstaking detail. Two oiled bronze knobs,
each with an ornate pattern of scrolls and triangles, were the only
interruption to the wooden mural.

            Kate
reached out to stroke the lines of a wolf howling at the moon. “What is this
place?”

            “This
is one of the most sacred places to our kind. It is called The Hall of
Histories,” Alex answered softly.

            “But
what is it?”

            “Come,
I will show you.” With the turn of a knob, Alex swung one of the heavy doors
open and indicated for her to step into the hall ahead of him.

            Kate
stepped through the doorway into the cavernous room. To call it breathtaking
would be insufficient. The room hummed with life and history, as though the
walls spoke to her in the voices of her ancestors.

Situated at the heart of the castle, The
Hall of Histories rose to the full six stories of the castle’s height. As with
all the rooms, the ceiling reflected the reciprocal of the sky beyond the
safety of the castle, providing the vampires with the only daylight they would
ever know. Books from floor-to-ceiling lined two walls of the hall, with spiral
staircases rising at each end to narrow cat walks along each level.

The remaining walls boasted a variety of
paintings, photographs, and art work. Alex led her to the corner of the room,
the echo of their footfalls on the white marble floor the only sound. He paused
before the last painting, an antiquated depiction of two small boys suckling
from a wolf.

“Long before the rise and fall of Rome,
there were twin brothers.”

“Remus and Romulus?” Kate interjected.
“I know that story.” She remembered it from history class.

“Do you want to tell the story then,
Katerina, or shall I?” Alex feigned impatience, but his leonine eyes danced
with amusement. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut and they both knew it.

“Please, continue.”

Alex cleared his throat. “As I was
saying, two brothers, born to rule, but left to die in the river Tiber, were
fostered into adulthood through a series of miraculous events. They grew to
manhood in friendship and brotherhood.”

“Until they disagreed on where to build
their city and Romulus killed Remus,” Kate added wryly, “some brotherhood.”

“Remind me,” Alexander chided, “who is
telling this story?” Kate shrugged a sheepish apology. She feigned zipping her
lips, locking them, and tossing the key away.

“Thank you. In that aspect, you are
wrong. Legend may state one thing, but here,” Alex indicated the hall with a
grand sweep of his hand, “We hold the truth behind the legends.”

“Remus, the father of our kind, settled
the northern part of the land now divided into northern Italy, Switzerland, and
Austria. While Romulus, the father of the lycan kind, established the central
and southern part.” Alex indicated an archaic map of Europe, with boundary
markings unlike any Kate had ever seen.

 “They lived in relative peace within
their respective kingdoms, until Remus succumbed to his greed. Remus desired to
extend his demesne across the entire continent, starting with the southern
lands controlled by his brother. Needless to say, Romulus took issue with his
brother’s invasion and the twins warred against each other.

“Determined to extend his rule at all
costs, Remus summoned the god of the underworld to strike a bargain. In
exchange for his soul and the souls of all his progeny, Remus would receive
immortality and supernatural power. Remus eagerly accepted. What need have he
of a soul, if he could never die?”

Alex sighed, “But alas, as with all
deals with the devil, you get more than you bargained for. The god of the
underworld granted Remus superhuman strength, speed, and agility. He gifted him
with immortality and the ability to control human minds, but he took far more
than his soul.

“Remus could live forever, but only in
the darkness of night, never again to see the light of day. For daylight
belonged to the god of the heavens. Demons such as Remus could not withstand
the sun’s pure light without scorching from its radiance.”

 “There’s nothing like learning you’re
demon spawn produced by a deal with the devil to ruin your day,” Kate
half-heartedly joked. Joking made it feel less real.

She still struggled to make peace with
what she’d become, all the choices no longer hers to make. Alex acknowledged
her loss with a gentle nod of understanding. She accepted his offer for what it
was and for all the good his pity would do her.

“Yes, well we can at least be grateful
to your ancestor for our gift of immortality.”


And
our damnation,” Kate added
grimly.

“That too, I suppose,” Alex agreed
dryly. “But there’s something… liberating about eternal damnation, something
reassuring about knowing how it’s all going to end. It relieves the pressure to
live your life a certain way. If we die, and that’s a huge if, sinner or saint,
the outcome’s still the same. The devil owns our souls no matter how we live.
We may as well make the best of it and enjoy life.”

“Or try to change it.”

“Well now, Katerina, that’s a subject
for a later time,” Alex said quietly, his golden gaze heavy on her face. He
cleared his throat and continued on.

“Unfortunately, you know it gets worse.”

“The blood?” Kate asked.

“Yes. Remus and his descendants, through
procreation or infection, would require human blood as sustenance.”

Alex hesitated, chewing his lower lip.
The conflict raging in his eyes told Kate he’d rather walk through fire than
continue down the path their dialogue had taken.

“And?” Kate pressed, pretty sure she
didn’t want to hear the answer any more than he wanted to give it.

“And each time a vampire feeds, he or
she steals a piece of that person’s soul for the devil.”

“WHAT?!?!?!” Kate exploded. “How could
you not tell me this until now?”

“I didn’t want to discourage you from
feeding. You need blood to remain strong.”

Kate didn’t care. There was no defense.

“You would’ve allowed me to unknowingly
steal someone’s soul?” Kate railed at him. Heat rose in her face to the point
where steam practically came out her ears. She couldn’t imagine how she
would’ve lived with the knowledge that she’d stolen a piece of someone’s soul.

“Katerina, let us be clear on one thing.
I will do anything to ensure your survival. Anything. Whether you like it or
not. Remember that.” His tone was firm, curbing any argument.

“Well, what about the blood
transfusions? Do they steal souls too?” Kate asked in a panic. Alexander may be
willing to do anything to keep her alive, but she wasn’t. Any soul stealing on
her part needed to end immediately.

“There’s no way to know. None of our
kind has ever tried to survive as you do. The blood is willingly given and you
don’t drink it, so there should be no consequences,” he surmised with less
confidence than Kate would’ve liked.

Note to self, reduce blood transfusions,
just in case. She was in desperate need of a topic change.

“So… what about Romulus and the
werewolves?”

“What about them?”

“How do they fit into the story? If we,”
she indicated herself and Alexander with a casual wave of her hand, “are the
product of a deal between Remus and the devil. Where did they come from?”

“They claim to have been created, in
response to our existence, by the ‘other side.’”

“The other side?”

“The light side. The good side. You
know. Heaven and Hell. Angels and demons. Dark and light. Each has their
counterpart. They claim to be ours. That ‘God,’ ” he placed quotations on the
last word with his fingers, “created them.”

“Oh.” Kate bit her lip and studied the
floor. “So we are the bad guys.”

“In principle, maybe. After all, we do
prey upon humanity,” a rueful smile twisted his lips, “or at least most of us
do. But don’t be fooled, Katerina. It’s all a matter of perspective. There is
no good and evil in this war, just immortals hell bent on destroying one
another.

“Don’t be so quick to condemn your kind
for what we are. It’s beyond our control, part of our nature. However, they
only have themselves to blame for their crimes.” Alexander sighed, “But I
digress.

“As legend would have it, Remus created
an army of vampires and razed his way south, slaughtering Romulus’ people and
destroying his lands. Romulus was powerless to protect his people from the
vampire army. So, Romulus entered into a bargain of his own.  Romulus summoned
the god of the heavens and asked for power and immortality to rival his
brother’s. The god agreed, but with one condition.

 “Romulus and his progeny would be in
the god of light’s eternal servitude, defending the lives and souls of mankind
from the demons of the night. Should a wolf break the sacred pact, his
immortality and soul would be forfeit to the darkness.

“In exchange for his service, Romulus
was given power equal to his brother’s, but without the limitations. He fought
the vampires as a wolf and as a man, immortal and powerful beyond measure.
Without the weaknesses of vampirism, Romulus held the advantage and beat back
his brother’s attacks with ease.

 “Remus, infuriated by his brother’s
victories, cried foul to the god of the underworld. The god, angered by his own
brother’s interference, provided Remus with the only weapon capable of
destroying the immortal lycan. Silver.”

Alex’s voice was so smooth and melodic.
Kate would’ve found it soothing, if it wasn’t telling her she was a
bloodsucking demon without a soul.

“Why silver?” she asked, trying to focus
on something other than her impending doom.

“Silver is a metal created of moonlight,
a tool of the prince of darkness. It’s the only substance the werewolf is
vulnerable to, the only weapon capable of preventing their healing and
regeneration.

 “Along with the silver, the god of the
underworld also gave Remus a promise. If he or his kin could eradicate the earth
of the lycans, the cost of their immortality would be satisfied.”

Kate furrowed her brow in confusion.
“What do you mean?”

“If Remus, or any vampire for that
matter, could destroy the lycan race, the curse would be lifted. No more blood.
No more banishment from daylight. No more lost souls. The vampires would be
omnipotent immortals with ultimate freedom.”

Kate gasped. “Do you mean that if Dom---
all the wolves die, we’ll no longer be cursed?”

Alex’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at
her slip. Oh, he noticed alright.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

Not sure she wanted to know, but in too
deep not to ask, Kate dove in head first.

“How?”

Alex gave her another wry smile. “Follow
me.” He led her across the room to the far end of the wall, where the pictures
transitioned to photographs.

Alex pulled her to a stop in front of a
large gilded frame. The life-size portrait inside was modern in comparison to
the other photographs and paintings on the wall, but still twenty, maybe thirty
years old. Kate studied the faces with interest and gasped in surprise. Her
parents smiled back at her, holding a newborn with a thick tuft of fuzzy black
hair on its head.

Kate swallowed at the lump of raw
emotion forming in her throat. She stepped closer to the picture, studying
every curve and line of their faces, drinking in every detail. This was the
closest she would ever come to standing face-to-face with them.

They were exactly as she’d imagined, so
vibrant, so in love. She could feel their love for the tiny infant cradled
tenderly in the woman’s arms. Realization hit her like a truck on the wrong side
of the freeway. It was her, the missing puzzle piece.

 “That, my dear Katerina, is where you
come in.” Alexander confirmed her suspicions.  

 “What do you mean?” Kate still hoped she’d
misunderstood.

“As I told you before, you are the
Cacciatori heiress. The one prophesied to save our people. You are the one
destined to destroy the wolves and bring the fall of darkness,” Alex explained
quietly.

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