Tainted Night, Tainted Blood

8



Jonathan kept silent as he led the way to his car. He kept a brisk pace, taking us through the woods surrounding my house instead of going down the driveway and following the road. I wasn’t sure if he was doing it for my benefit or if he was just as paranoid as I was. Neither of us wanted to be spotted if at all possible.

I paused at the passenger door to his car. It was nice and all, but it had been a long time since I had ridden in a car with anyone. I preferred the open air of my Honda to being cooped up in someone else’s vehicle.

And I was about to get into the thing with a werewolf. Even if he wasn’t your normal wolf, Jonathan was still a monster. If he were to shift inside the car, I doubted I could fend him off in the confined space.

I opened the passenger door and got in anyway. Jonathan wouldn’t hurt me. Somehow I knew that. He needed my help, sure, but I think it went much deeper than that.

Neither of us spoke during the first few minutes. We rode side by side, me feeling all kinds of uncomfortable. I glanced at him a few times, and it was clear he was warring with something himself. His face changed expressions constantly, as if he was having an internal argument and was somehow losing both sides.

Eventually, he sighed and seemed to relax. “You’ve been quiet as of late,” he said. He never took his eyes off the road.

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“I meant over the last few months. You haven’t come to the Den, haven’t sent me word as to how things were going.”

“You haven’t done anything that required my sort of attention.”

I meant it as a warning, but Jonathan smiled. “The invitation still stands. You are one of us as long as you don’t come in with foul intent. No one will harm you while I am Denmaster.”

I squirmed in my seat. I still couldn’t get comfortable with the idea the Luna Cult accepted me as one of their own. Sure, there were a few who still didn’t like me, but that didn’t make it any easier. I probably would have liked it better if Jonathan was as uncomfortable sitting next to me as I was him.

The faint smile never left his lips as we continued on in silence. He looked so relaxed it made me want to smack him. My back was stiff, my hands hovered near my weapons. There was no way I was going to relax, not with where we were going.

Eventually, we entered the Ohio State campus. He stuck to the run-down portion of the old college. The Luna Cult controlled this area, though no one knew it. They kept a pretty low profile, hiding their Den in the mass of rundown, empty buildings. Lights from the occupied portion of the campus could still be seen from where we were, though they were far enough away that no one would see our approach.

He pulled into a small underground garage a few minutes later. It looked as though it was about to cave in from the outside. Part of one wall just inside had crumbled away, as if someone had smashed it a few times with a really large hammer. Pillars holding up the roof over our head were pockmarked and looked ready to collapse.

Once we were down a few levels, however, the place started to look a bit more respectable. Faint lights that couldn’t be seen from the outside lit the way. I caught a glimpse of motion on one of the pillars and for the first time noticed the cameras that followed us as we rode down the ramp.

I knew the Luna Cult took their privacy seriously, but this seemed a bit much. I normally parked off in the middle of nowhere, hiding my motorcycle in an alley and walking the rest of the way to the Den. It appeared the Cult had a better method.

“We’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” Jonathan said as we got out of his car. “It isn’t far.”

I followed him out of the garage and through the campus. I couldn’t help but gaze over at the lights where the Purebloods were staying. To think the Luna Cult was so close to where young men and women were living was unsettling. Sure, I had known it before, but to actually see it was something else.

“We don’t hunt them,” Jonathan said, glancing my way. He’d probably read some of my thoughts on my face.

“I find that hard to believe. How many wolves are in the Cult now?”

He smiled. “A few. The Columbus Cult currently is the only Cult with werewolves in their ranks as far as I am aware. We are special, and because of our removal of House Tremaine we have gained something of a reputation.”

“Which draws others to you.”

Jonathan shrugged noncommittally. “It is what it is.”

I wasn’t so sure how much I liked the idea of more werewolves within the Luna Cult. One or two was bad enough. If too many got together, how long before they became a problem?

“We make sure our newest were members follow our rules,” he said. “We don’t let them hunt like they would if they were rogues or under vampire influence. Those who have tasted blood, who have killed for pleasure and sport, are the hardest to break of the habit, but we do our best. We make sure their food is provided for without needless death.”

I eyed him. He seemed genuine, but I found it hard to believe he could keep a group of werewolves from hunting if they wanted to. There were so many young people nearby, easy victims who might be too drunk or too stoned to fight back.

But in the end, I believed him. I hadn’t heard about any excessive deaths at the campus. Sure, there were going to be a few. It was a way of life these days. Vampires and werewolves needed blood, and college campuses were usually easy targets, especially when a vampire House needed new recruits.

We reached the green leading up to the old library that served as the Luna Cult Den. Jonathan’s glamour hid the true appearance of the building. It looked just as abandoned as every other structure on this end of the campus. Trash littered the green, and the Den itself looked dark and imposing.

He opened the door for me and the darkness seemed to ooze outward. I stepped through, shielding my eyes to the bright glare I knew was to come.

Light washed over me as I broke through the glamour. No one would be able to see it from the outside. Anyone who managed to approach the Den without getting hauled off by the Cult’s guards wouldn’t even know it was there unless they opened the door and stepped inside.

It felt strange to walk through the door again. It brought back all the memories of a time I sorely wanted to forget, of a time I nearly lost my life. I half expected Pablo, one of the more aggressive Pureblood Cultists, to be standing there, waiting to greet me with hostility, but when my vision cleared, the big Mexican was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, a small huddle of Cultists bowed their heads as my gaze fell on them. Jonathan came in behind me, smiling faintly as if he knew this was coming. A scrawny kid, whose tattoo of a crescent moon scored into his forehead looked worn and faded, stepped forward.

“Welcome,” he said, bowing again. “We are honored by your presence.”

I frowned and looked back at Jonathan. “What’s going on?”

“They wanted to repay you for what you have done. They have waited a long time for this moment.”

I looked back at the group and shook my head. “I don’t need your thanks. I did it for me.”

The kid faltered. He blinked at me like he couldn’t quite understand what I was saying. “You helped us in our time of need,” he said. “It is our honor to serve you.”

I ground my teeth. While what I had done might have kept the Cult from being absorbed by House Tremaine, it had also resulted in the death of the original Denmaster, as well as quite a few Pureblood Cultists. I didn’t deserve their thanks.

I wasn’t sure what to say. I sure as hell didn’t want the Luna Cult to serve me like they did their wolves. They could worship their werewolves if they wanted. I just wanted them to leave me out of it.

When I didn’t say anything, the Cultist visibly slumped and returned to his companions. I felt bad, but I didn’t want their thanks. It was a bitchy thing to do, I know. He would get over it.

“This way,” Jonathan said, disapproval clear in his voice.

He led me up the stairs, marching as if he wanted nothing to do with me now. I glanced back at the Pureblood Cultists, feeling guiltier by the moment. They were watching me with sad, confused eyes. I had to look away, shame flooding me. Did I really need to treat them that way? They only wanted to be nice.

We reached the top of the stairs and Jonathan turned toward the gilded doors carved with werewolves in various stages of shifting. The small glass window above the scene was stained to look like the full moon. Two boys stood on either side of the door as if guarding it, which was new. There were no other Cultists on this floor.

One of the boys gasped as soon as he saw me and staggered along the wall as if he could melt through it. It took me a moment, but I recognized the kid. I never thought I would see him again.

“Jeremy.” Jonathan’s tone was hard. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the kid’s reaction or my treatment of his Cultists.

Jeremy straightened but didn’t return to his place in front of the door. “It’s her,” he said, pointing at me. “She’s the one.”

Jonathan sighed. “I figured as much,” he said. “Return to your post. She won’t harm you here.”

Jeremy took a faltering step back toward the door. His eyes never left mine as he slunk back into place. His companion snickered but didn’t make a move.

Jonathan glanced at me. “We found him dying in the streets. We have you to thank for bringing him into our ranks, it appears.”

I frowned. I remembered the kid. Jeremy Lincoln had followed me out of The Bloody Stake one night, intent on having me for dinner. In a misguided show of compassion, I let him go with a warning not to hunt within the city ever again. I thought he would flee town, find a new place to resume his hunt, yet there he stood, trembling in front of me like he expected me to kill him right then and there.

“He refused to eat for the longest time,” Jonathan said. “He said a vampire threatened to kill him if he hunted. He wanted to live a good life, avoid killing or feeding at all.”

“I didn’t hunt anyone,” Jeremy said, frantic. “I swear. I fought the hunger, but it nearly killed me. They forced me to eat.” He lowered his eyes.

“We had a hard time getting him to eat anything, but after a while, the hunger was too much for him to bear.”

I smiled at Jeremy and he flinched. “I’m glad I could help.”

Jonathan’s mood darkened for an instant, but he recovered quickly. “It nearly killed him,” he said. “You shouldn’t have done that. Not even you can turn away from what you are, yet you expected him to keep from feeding his beast.”

I shrugged. “I could have killed him and saved him the suffering instead. Maybe I should have.”

I didn’t even move, yet Jeremy jerked back like I had leaped at him. His companion snickered again, drawing my eye. He paled and went silent. He was taller than Jeremy, but scrawnier. They looked to be about the same age. I wondered if they had known each other prior to the change. Neither had a Luna Cult tattoo, which indicated they were both werewolves.

“Enough of this,” Jonathan said. “Make sure no one disturbs us. Paul, make sure the Cultists downstairs leave. I don’t want any accidents. Return here once they are gone.”

The kid beside Jeremy nodded and hurried away. I could hear him yelling at everyone to get out as he descended the stairs.

Jonathan’s eyes turned toward the cowering Jeremy. “If you hear fighting inside, do not come in. Take Paul and leave. He won’t want to go, but make him. I will not be responsible for your deaths should it come to a fight.”

“What are you getting me into?” I asked, not liking what I was hearing at all.

“You will see why I take such precautions.”

“How about you tell me now?” I took an aggressive stance, my hands going to my weapons. “I don’t like surprises.”

Jonathan glanced toward the door, nervous. “Please,” he said. “Do not do anything to jeopardize our arrangement until you hear us out. It’s important that we all work together.”

“Who’s on the other side of the door?”

Jonathan opened his mouth. I wasn’t sure if he was going to answer the question or talk around it some more. I didn’t give him a chance.

“Never mind,” I said. I went straight for the door. “I’ll find out for myself.”

Jeremy scrambled out of the way. He didn’t make a very good guard dog. I yanked open the doors and strode inside, my hands at the ready.

As soon as I entered the room and saw who was waiting for me, I cursed. “You,” I said, drawing my sword without even thinking about it.

Across the room, staring at me with a face as blank as an empty page, stood Adrian Davis, Luna Cult defector.