Chasing Shadows (A Shadow Chronicles Novel) Page 9

  “And it was his last gift to you, right?” he queried, rubbing my back as he spoke.

  I nodded, sniffling to try and stop the tears. Mark kissed the top of my head, then told me, “Saphrona, it’s alright for you to be upset over that. I understand.”

  I pulled back and looked up at him. “How can that be? How can you be so sweet and understanding when I’m crying over a man I was married to more than sixty years ago?”

  “That was before my time, remember?” he said softly. “Besides, you said he was good to you when you needed someone to love you. I’ve got no grudge against your memories.”

  We were reminded that we were not alone when Juliette cleared her throat. I separated from Mark reluctantly. “Sorry about that,” I told her.

  “Like he said, I got no grudge against your memories.”

  “Are you going to have a grudge against me now that your brother and I are together?” I asked.

  She looked at me squarely. “Saphrona, you said he was your bondmate and I believed you. Which means I knew the two of you were going to end up sleeping together—though I admit to not expecting it to happen quite so soon.”

  I chanced a smile as I glanced sidelong at Mark. “Neither did we, really. But as I’m sure you know—”

  Juliette waved off my words and stepped around us. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. One thing led to another.” She walked over to the back door and raised a hand to finger the splinters where the hinges had torn from the frame.

  “What happened here?” she asked over her shoulder.

  “I did that when I saw Herugrim standing in the driveway,” I admitted as I stepped around Mark and slipped wearily into one of the three remaining chairs. “I didn’t think Mark would have been so careless as to let him roam freely outside the fences, and Moe and Cissy were making a racket, so I knew something was wrong. I kinda panicked and tore the door off the frame when I opened it. Smelled blood as soon as I went outside.”

  Juliette turned around, and I was not remiss to the worry I saw in her eyes. “What happened, Mark?” she asked.

  He had moved to my side and laid a hand on my shoulder. “I was checking the fences like Saphrona asked me to. A snake spooked the horse and he reared. I’d have fallen straight off if my foot hadn’t got caught in the stirrup. Herugrim kinda trampled me a little before I got uncaught.”

  I cringed to hear him speak of being trampled by a frightened horse so casually and apparently Juliette didn’t like it either; I heard her inhale sharply. Then again, I reminded myself, Mark was used to being injured severely and healing within minutes or hours as a side effect of his “condition.”

  “Mark, you should take getting injured more seriously,” Juliette told him sternly.

  “Jules, I was within inches of death when I got injured in Afghanistan a year ago,” he told her, pulling down the neck of the t-shirt he’d put on. “This ain’t just a scratch, little sister—this baby cut the jugular. Twenty minutes after, when I should have been dead for at least fifteen minutes, they were calling it a minor flesh wound and couldn’t figure out how I’d lost so much blood.”

  She shook her head, her hands going to her hips. “You’re lucky that horse didn’t crack your skull—just because you’re a dhunphyr doesn’t mean you’re invincible.”

  I could tell her attitude was a front—what he’d just told her had frightened her a great deal. I looked up at him. “She’s right, Mark. I know you’re a lot more used to the way you heal than we are, but humor us, okay?”

  After looking at me a moment he nodded, then sat in the chair to my left. Juliette finally sat in the chair on my right.

  “I want you to explain to me how my dog is really my baby sister,” Mark said after a long moment of silence.

  Juliette looked at me. I nodded my encouragement, and then listened as she told again the story of the night her brother was born. His hands balled into fists when she recounted what her mother had told her about the rogue vampire who had attacked his, and I covered them with my own in silent comfort. She explained that it was her mother from whom she had inherited the ability to transform into a dog.

  “So that’s what really happened to my birth mother,” he said hoarsely when she had finished. “That’s how I became what I am.” Neither Juliette nor I said anything, we just let him process the information. Mark looked between us, then asked his sister, “Does Dad know about any of this? About you and Mom? How many others like you are there?”

  Juliette seemed pleased that he still referred to Monica as “Mom,” so she smiled tentatively, but shook her head negatively. “No, Mark, Daddy doesn’t know anything. Mom said he was destroyed by what happened to Patricia and she just didn’t think he could handle anything more. As for others, there are groups of shapeshifters all over the world, and actually, quite a few of Mom’s relatives are shifters. Uncle Buck was Banjo and Aunt Teresa was Sandy.”

  Mark’s eyes grew large. “Our pets were family members?” he asked incredulously.

  She chanced a smile again. “Still are, technically. They’re just not Banjo or Sandy anymore. They still shift and all, but they had to stop being our pets when they imprinted.”

  “Imprinted?”

  “Imprinting is to shapeshifters as pair-bonding is to vampires,” she said. “Although even I didn’t know that until yesterday. Until I met Saphrona, I had no idea any of that drivel Vivian Drake was putting out was true.”

  Mark looked at me then, and I shook my head minutely, hoping he understood that I had not told her I was Vivian Drake. He blinked once and then put on a sheepish smile. “I didn’t either, until today. Didn’t even know what I was until Saphrona told me immortal humans were real. And you’ve just told me how it happened to me.”

  He reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “Been a hell of a day,” he said.

  “You’re a lot calmer than we thought you would be,” Juliette mused.

  Her brother spared her a glance. “We?” he queried.

  “I’m sure Saphrona’s told you how she knew what I was?” she asked, and he nodded. “Well, I knew she was part vampire because of the way she smells, so I knew from some of the things she was saying yesterday that she wanted to talk to me as soon as I could get away from you. When you let me out for the last time last night, I came here to talk to her. We both concluded that your finding out the truth was inevitable, so I called Mom today after you took off on the horse and arranged a meeting to discuss telling you everything. She and I agreed that because of your relationship with Saphrona, it was time you knew, but we didn’t think you’d be all that rational about it. Of course, neither of us had any clue that you already knew there was something different about you.”

  Mark looked between us again. “What does my relationship with Saphrona have to do with my learning the truth?” he asked.

  I took up the narrative then. “Last night while we talked, Juliette wasn’t the only one who learned something new,” I began. “What she just told you about your mother sending her pack after that rogue was to protect you.”

  “She didn’t think he was going to come back after me, did she?”

  Juliette shook her head as I said, “No. She wasn’t exactly protecting you from him, she was protecting you from other vampires. Juliette told me that the real reason there are no known dhunphyr like you is because they were all killed shortly after birth. Apparently the blood of an immortal human is a powerful narcotic to my father’s kind—it works a lot like steroids do in humans. Only worse.”

  “Makes the vampire virtually indestructible as long as the blood is in his or her system,” Juliette added.

  “Damn,” Mark swore softly. “You’d think they’d want to keep people like me around rather than kill them.”

  I nodded, but said to him, “How often does an addict stop after just one dose? The more he has, the more he needs. Eventually the Ancients, the vampires that rule our society, had to outlaw the creation of dhunphyr, because too many young mothers were being kille
d for their unborn children. Human society was beginning to notice.”

  “And you didn’t know any of that?” he asked me.

  “I knew that your kind was virtually non-existent, and I knew that creation of them had been outlawed, but I didn’t know the real reason behind the decision. Juliette thinks I might have learned it had I completed my Coming of Age ceremony.”

  He frowned again. “And what is that? I remember reading about it in Vivian Drake’s books, but I never really understood how it works.”

  “New vampires aren’t considered fully mature until they’re fifty years old,” I explained. “Don’t ask me who decided on that age, or why—it was way before my time. Anyway, when a person’s been a vampire for fifty years, they hold an elaborate ceremony where he or she drinks the blood of their sire, so that they can gain the blood memories of that person.”

  “You guys can really share memories through drinking one another’s blood?”

  I shook my head. “Not precisely. It only works between a vampire and the vampires he or she has created. Truthfully, Diarmid wasn’t sure it would work with me since he hadn’t created me in the traditional sense. It was speculated that since I shared his DNA, I would either come by the memories automatically, which I did not, or I might not gain them even through drinking his blood. Part of me thinks he was hoping I wouldn’t, because if I didn’t I’d never have learned what he was really like.”

  I took a deep breath, and I was very glad to have his hands to hold as I yet again recalled that awful night more than a hundred eighty years ago.

  “The memories are delivered in reverse order,” I went on. “They start the day of the ceremony and work backward. I’d always believed my father loved my mother—that’s what he’d always told me. But it was all a lie. He was only using her. He’d have killed her had she not gotten pregnant, and he only stuck with her long enough to get what he really wanted, which was me.”

  Instead of tears filling my eyes a third time, I knew it was rage when Mark’s expression shifted, as I told him, “He took me away from her right after I was born and walked away—just walked away. She died screaming, begging for him to come back. I will never forgive him for that.”

  Mark rubbed my hands to warm them, as they had gone quite cold. “And you didn’t see anything else?” he asked quietly.

  I shook my head. “No. I couldn’t stomach the thought of seeing anymore of his memories, not after the nightmare of my mother’s last moments in this world.

  “I gave up almost everything that had to do with being a vampire that night,” I went on. “I stopped speaking to my father, all my friends. I even stopped speaking to my brother for several years, although I did reconcile with him sometime later. He was the one who first introduced me to my sister, who was created twenty years after I left, because I had refused to meet her if Diarmid came along. Lochlan and a small number of vampires who have also chosen to drink the blood of animals instead of humans are the only people from that world I have anything to do with. No one ever told me the truth about dhunphyr blood, and of course I never thought to ask.”

  Silence fell again for a minute or two, until suddenly Mark straightened. “You’re worried that our meeting has put me in danger from other vampires,” he said.

  Juliette and I both nodded. “It’s a very real possibility, Mark,” I said slowly. “I told you Evangeline is jealous of me because of how much Diarmid loves me, in spite of how much I hate him, and yet she was here yesterday on his behalf. I can’t say she won’t be back. And even though estranged hardly describes our relationship, my father has been known to just show up, making one of his many attempts to reconcile. My brother is also coming over tomorrow night to take me to a movie we’ve been waiting to see for weeks.”

  I drew a breath. “There’s also the fact that… Well, I went to a psychic once, about the dreams I used to have about you. I wanted to know when we were going to meet, and she told me that we would meet when we needed each other the most.”

  “You didn’t tell me that!” Juliette hollered.

  I looked at her. “I haven’t told anyone that, until now.”

  Mark reached his hands across the table so that he was holding one of mine and one of his sister’s. “Look, I get that you are worried about me,” he said. “And I appreciate your concern. But I’m sure you’re worrying for nothing. For all we know, my blood’s not even addictive anymore.”

  “Some things, like fine wine, get sweeter with time,” I chided gently.

  “That’s right, big brother,” Juliette seconded. “How do we know you haven’t become more potent as you’ve gotten older?”

  “Okay, fine, but you’re forgetting that I’m a United States Marine. I’ve been trained to kill in more than a dozen ways with my bare hands alone. I think I can take care of myself.”

  “Against a human enemy, perhaps,” I pointed out. “But vampires are the world’s most dangerous predator. Their hearing, sight, speed, and strength are ten, maybe twenty times that of the most well-trained soldier. The only benefits dhunphyr get from draculin are the accelerated healing, and possibly an extended lifespan.”

  He sat back then. “Wait a minute—only possibly? I thought they were immortal?”

  I could see another statement in his eyes: That’s what you said in your books.

  “It’s always been believed that they are,” Juliette said quickly. “I mean, we figure that the healing factor they inherit continuously regenerates their bodies indefinitely.”

  Mark leaned forward again, bracing his elbows on the table and dropping his head into his hands. “Why do I sense a ‘but’ coming?” he mumbled.

  Juliette looked at me, then at her brother. “But no one knows for sure because no one’s ever met a dhunphyr before. Our stories—among shifters that is—say they never live past infancy because the vampires that create them can’t control the thirst for their blood once they’ve had a taste of it.”

  For a moment Mark remained with his face buried in his hands, then he looked up at us. “Just because no one you know has ever met a dhunphyr before doesn’t mean they don’t exist. If the vampires have stories about immortal humans, there has to be some somewhere, right?”

  “There’s an equal chance that my father’s people made those stories up to cover up the truth,” I said quietly.

  Mark laughed mirthlessly and rose from his chair. He walked over to the fridge and opened it, grabbing what turned out to be the last can of Mt. Dew, popping the tab, and taking three long drinks before he spoke again. “You know what I think?” he said. “I think that until I see some evidence to the contrary, such as wrinkles or gray hairs, I’m going with the theory that I’m an immortal human just like the guy from Highlander.”

  I exchanged a glance with Juliette, certain that I saw in her eyes the same concern for Mark that I was sure was in mine. While I was fine with his stance on believing he would be immortal until proven otherwise, I feared that he would take unnecessary risks to find that proof.

  In order to lighten the mood, I looked again at Juliette and asked, “Now that Mark knows the truth about you, are we going to be seeing Angel around here anymore?”

  She looked up at Mark. “Mom and I talked about that. She thinks that while I don’t necessarily need to spend my time as a dog anymore, I should at least stick around and continue acting as your guardian.”

  “My guardian?” her brother returned with one eyebrow raised.

  “Why do you think Uncle Buck and Aunt Teresa gave up so much of their lives to be our family pet? Why do you think I’ve given up probably ninety percent of the last year to be Angel?” Juliette challenged. “We did that to protect you.”

  “But you’re dogs,” he scoffed. “If you’re telling me that a government trained soldier like myself is no match for a vampire, do you honestly expect me to believe that a dog is any better?”

  Juliette grinned. “Not just any dog, big brother. Shapeshifters are supernatural creatures just like vampire
s are. Technically, shifters are actually weres, because we only take on one form. But the wolves have claimed the term for themselves because of all the legends about werewolves. So, although the rest of us think of ourselves as shifters, only chimaera are true shapeshifters—the kind that can take on multiple animal forms—and there hasn’t been one of them born in centuries. Anyway, shifters have heightened senses, heightened strength and speed, and we can adjust our size.”

  “What the heck does that mean?”

  “We have the ability to make our animal forms larger for short periods of time,” she explained. “I could shift into a Siberian as large as a horse if I wanted to. It was an incredibly useful ability during the Border Wars of the late 17, early 18 centuries, when vampires and the different shifter breeds were all fighting for territory in the New World. Problem is, a shifter expends an incredible amount of energy to maintain the larger size so it’s generally only utilized during battle. Believe me, Mark, I am more than capable of protecting you.”

  “So what are you planning to do with yourself if you’re not gonna be a dog?” he asked, ignoring her declaration that she could protect him.

  Juliette turned her countenance to me before looking back up at Mark. “Well, it occurs to me that, with everything out in the open and the two of you being so friendly and all, that you could just make your relationship simpler by Mark moving in here, and I could move into the apartment over the barn.”

  “You want us to live together after knowing each other for just one day?” I asked, despite the fact that Mark and I had already discussed the issue. “Don’t you think that’s a bit premature?”

  Juliette cocked her eyebrow at me. “Please, spare me,” she said mockingly. “The two of you have already slept together, which in the world according to Vivian Drake means your bonding is complete. Not only will you have a hard time keeping your hands off of each other, you won’t be able to stand the thought of being away from each other even for a few hours.

  “Besides, you told me last night that while Mark has just met you, you’ve known him for years.”