Venators, page 8
Grey’s chest constricted. Shimmy out of my own skin. That was exactly how he’d felt. His fascination with all things paranormal and fantasy had been like a bad addiction, one that made him feel whole only when he was immersed in it.
His first experience with Tate had been terrifying, but his fear had soon been overshadowed by validation. He wasn’t crazy. Between the hell of his home life and the fact that he felt uncomfortable pretty much anywhere, the only peace he’d found was in studying the supernatural. Hell, it didn’t even have to be something as real as translating Latin documents—cheesy vampire movies would scratch the itch. He swallowed. “You’re trying to tell me that you felt the same way I did?”
“I tried to talk to you about it so many times, but I didn’t know how to explain. I didn’t want you to think I was a freak.”
“You didn’t want me to think you were a freak.” He snorted. “There’s irony for you.”
“Grey, I’m serious!”
So was he.
“That’s why you asked me what I felt—in the library.”
“Yes. You know, we’re a lot alike. I was just better at hiding it than you.”
There were too many things he hid. He couldn’t find the need to disguise the one thing that made him feel whole. He uttered the most honest declaration he’d ever shared with her: “I didn’t want to hide it.” But it was so far under his breath, it went unnoticed.
Rune stared at the fire, her jaw chewing on her next words before she spat them out. “I think Ryker felt it too.”
Grey was not prepared for that. It sucker punched him in the gut, and his hands curled into fists. His throat constricted so hard it burned. He honestly thought he couldn’t hate Ryker any more than he already did. But if this was true—if Ryker and Rune had truly felt as he did . . .
Rune must have known exactly what he was thinking—it couldn’t have been that hard to decipher the look on his face.
“I think that’s why he was so horrible to you,” she whispered, not meeting his eye. “That scream you heard all those years ago, I’m positive it was Ryker. We were playing hide-and-seek, and I heard him scream. I’ll never forget that sound—no kid should ever have to scream like that. So much terror.” She stared into the flames. “I was in our backyard. I tried to get to him, but the gate was stuck. I couldn’t get it open. I pulled and yanked and . . . he just kept screaming over and over again.
“By the time I finally found him, he was . . . I don’t know. Something had changed. Ryker was never the same after that. I asked him a hundred times what had happened, but he wouldn’t say. It was the next day that he started acting so strangely toward you. You showed up in that trench coat, and he looked at you . . . like he wanted to kill you. I’d never seen so much hatred in his eyes before.” She looked up, sadness now dripping from her features, pulling everything down. “I couldn’t understand why he despised you so much, but now I think I do. Tate was at my house that night, and you and your trench coat were a constant reminder.”
Grey’s blood pressure had been building since she’d started her story, and he bit off a snide response. “You think?”
Tate melted silently from the shadows, holding three more of the miniature green pigs by the tails, and Rune jumped halfway off the log. “You scared me!”
“It’s a lesson you could learn. I could hear you both a hundred feet out.” He plopped down the fresh kill and shrugged out of his weapon-laden, dripping-wet trench. The mud was gone, but it looked like he’d chosen to leap into a pool of water fully dressed. “Planning on eating these before they’re burnt?” He pulled the cooked pigs off the fire and handed one skewer to each of them.
Grey was salivating. He ignored the pig’s appearance and carefully blew on the outside, trying to be patient and not burn himself. The meat was amazing, and he sighed with delight as the juices ran down his chin. It was even better than ham, which he hadn’t thought possible—richer and with a perfect balance of salty and sweet.
He was halfway through before he noticed that Rune had lain her dinner to the side without taking a bite.
Tate finished gutting the rest and carefully placed them over the fire.
Once he was done, Rune cleared her throat. “I’ve waited. Can we talk now?”
“Yes.” Tate wiped the blade off on his pants and leaned back to slip it into a belt sheath. “Did you have specific questions, or should I just explain?”
Grey licked the grease from his fingers. “Just explain.” He couldn’t think of a single thing he didn’t have a question about.
“All of it,” Rune added.
“All of it would take a month.” Tate unlaced his boots and peeled off wet socks.
The markings on Grey’s arm changed again. Somewhere on the return trip from the pools, they’d gone solid black, but now they were flickering the same pinks and purples they’d been while bathing. He paused with food halfway to his mouth. “Why does this keep happening?”
Tate glanced up from the blade he was cleaning. “Because,” he drawled, visually sweeping every tree and bush that surrounded them with narrowed eyes, “those are a warning system. Are they the same colors you noticed at the hot springs?”
“Yes.”
“Then I would guess your current colors indicate that something of the fae species is getting very close.”
“You guess?” Rune said.
Tate was only half listening, still scanning their surroundings. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had Venators.”
Grey looked at his arms with increased interest. He’d been so busy trying not to die, he hadn’t noticed that the color changing was anything other than random.
Tate reached into his pocket and pulled out another vial.
Rune leaned forward. “Is that what you used to get us through the gate?”
“No. And it didn’t get us through the gate. The gate opened because we belong on this side. That particular potion redirected anyone behind us to exit through a different gate. It probably saved our lives. This,” he raised the vial and shook the light pink potion inside, “is easier to brew, I’m told.” He threw it on the ground near the fire, and a misty cloud rose up.
It stopped a foot above their heads and then spread out like a mushroom, raining down around the edges until it surrounded them in a clear dome. Once the mist met the ground, it hardened into a glass-like substance.
Rune gently touched it. “What is this?”
“In this world, you never know where eyes and ears might be hiding. You think we’re alone, but there are creatures of every shape and size, some with abilities you’ve never even thought of. Judging by your markings, we definitely aren’t alone. And you both, of all people, must be extraordinarily careful with what you say and where.” He motioned around. “This will offer us a limited time in which we can have the privacy necessary to have this conversation.
“To answer the most basic question, there have always been two separate planes in this world. We’ve existed side by side, with time passing nearly identically from the beginning. But our two planes are vastly different in makeup and species, and as we go, you will discover many inconsistencies. Some things will appear similar to what you’re used to, but they aren’t. Just as werewolves and other creatures exist only here, in the beginning the Venator bloodlines existed only on earth.”
“You keep using that word, ‘Venator.’ What is it?” Rune asked.
“You. We discovered your kind a few hundred years ago. This world was on the brink of a war. Many tribes fled through the portals to the other side, seeking sanctuary. Others went in search of new territories and people to conquer. It went well at first. They all found what they were looking for: escape or prey. As a result, more from this side made the exodus. And—”
“These tribes came to our side?” Rune interrupted. “Why haven’t I ever seen them?”
“There are very few left, and they operate with an attitude of discretion. But I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”
“All the stories are true, then,” Grey said. “Dracula, Van Helsing, the old fairy tales . . .”
“Most are true, yes. But eventually word began to trickle back that a group of humans had begun to hunt us successfully—the Venators. Van Helsing was one, actually. Up to that point, humans had been viewed as a weak species. The fact that they were able to not only fight us but win was remarkable.
“Those fighting for peace on my side realized the potential of such a species and went searching. They hoped these new skills would prove strong enough to provide order, and the Venators did. They had a weakness, however, that was easy to exploit. A Venator changing to a vampire, for example, was not something anyone—besides the vampires—wanted. So their genetic makeup was altered, enhancing the abilities they already had and providing immunity to many dangers this world posed to humans.”
“You modified their genes!” Rune burst out.
“Yes. And as you are direct descendants, the traits were passed down to you.
Rune frowned. “Then why weren’t we born on this side?”
Tate raised one eyebrow. “Patience. If you want the whole story, we go in order.” He took a moment to turn the roasting pigs. “The Venators were paid handsomely for their services, and they became the law, the equivalent of your justice system. They were the reigning judges, juries, and executioners for a very long portion of our history. At that time, the door between worlds stood open, and the Venators could pass back and forth with ease, performing their services like any other job. Many of their families had no idea what they actually did.”
Grey struggled to get a mental picture of that. Mother packing a lunch in a pail with a cloth over the top as the husband went into the woods for a day of hunting . . . Only, he crossed to an alternate dimension and hunted werewolves, returning in the evening to kiss the kids good night.
Tate leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as if the weight of the world pressed down on him. “But then it went horribly wrong. One of the Venators decided this world was too corrupt and contained too much danger for your side. The system we’d worked so hard to create crumbled. He decided there was only one way to grant your side the safety they deserved—the extermination of our kind. He gathered an elite group of generals, who rallied troops and converted many to the cause.”
“They just started killing people?” Grey asked. “For no reason?”
“Millions. It was the greatest slaughter in our history.” His eyes were haunted. “This world has seen horrors your side can only dream of. They all pale in comparison to the actions of the Venators.”
There was silence, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
“How were they stopped?” Rune asked.
“The council concocted an elaborate ruse, years in the making. Suffice it to say, we managed to get most of the Venators on the other side, and then a witch sealed the doors between our two worlds.”
“Most, but not all,” Grey said.
Tate’s face seemed to tighten, but it was hard to tell in the dark, especially with the shadows that moved over his face like water. Grey wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.
“No, not all of them. The remaining Venators were hunted with a vengeance. Some went into hiding, but Venators age at nearly the same rate as humans. All are long dead.”
The glass dome cracked, and a large fracture snaked its way from one side to the other. Tate eyed it. “Running out of time.”
Grey didn’t understand. “If it was so bad last time, why would you bring us back?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?” Tate pulled a pig from the fire and blew on it for a bit before biting down on it. He talked around the mouthful. “I’m willing to give you as much information tonight as I deem safe. But if either of you choose to repeat it, not only will I explicitly deny it, but I will be forced to make sure you both disappear—permanently.” Tate calmly swallowed as if he had not just issued a death threat and then scanned them both, evaluating their reactions. “Agreed?”
“Do we have a choice?” Grey asked.
“Not if you want answers.”
“Fine.” Grey said.
Rune was shaking, but she nodded her agreement.
“Very good. To answer your question . . . The council gave a few valid—or at least believable—reasons as to why they are risking your reintroduction into our world. The council has been unable to defeat Zio as she continues to push us toward war—the loss of life will be catastrophic. The council is hoping you will both offer something new to the battle in order to tip the scales out of Zio’s favor. They are also saying that in this state of unease, they need more assistance in enforcing laws and keeping the peace for the safety of the realm.”
“But you don’t believe that,” Rune said.
“Well,” Tate answered, chewing, “I believe they will use you in those capacities, yes. But they have other goals in mind.”
“Such as?” Grey prodded.
Tate leveled a very serious gaze, implying that the information worth threatening them over was about to come out. “The council is corrupt to its very core. That you must understand. No matter what is said or what implications are made, the council has been constructed with betrayals, lies, underground connections, criminal activity, and more sins than I could possibly list. The land is losing faith in them. There have been several plays for power, only one of which is their main concern—Zio.”
Tate pulled a second pig from the fire. “The council has been forced to take steps that it desperately resents in order to maintain a sliver of loyalty—visiting the villages, giving handouts to the poor. And, most recently, opening the council house doors to those whose grievances involve the highest crimes in the land: murder and kidnapping. These personal audiences are nothing more than show, feigning concern for those citizens affected most heavily by creatures stronger than them. The council abhors lowering themselves to the level of the peasants and those they deem ‘helpless.’ In the past, actions such as these would never have been considered. That’s where you come in.”
Tate used the skewered pig to point at Rune and then Grey before ripping a chunk off with his teeth. “I believe the council, with a show of power, hopes to regain the unquestioned loyalty they once had. Nothing else will strike as much fear into the hearts of their enemies as the return of the Venators—the greatest blight this land has ever seen. The council will bribe you with wealth and eventually blind you with it, turning you away from any moral compass you ever possessed until they transform you into the tools they so desperately hope to wield. They will then use you to squash those who challenge their position.”
“And you brought us here to hand us over to that?” Grey exclaimed.
“No. That cannot be allowed to happen under any circumstances.”
More cracks snapped across the surface overhead.
Rune peered suspiciously at Tate. “Wouldn’t it have been better to just leave us on our side, then? Far away from all of this?”
“Yes. But the council is nearly untouchable, and if they wanted Venators, they would’ve found a way to get them, with or without my help.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she challenged. “You don’t agree, but you jump in to help?”
“I’m not helping them. Let me be very clear—the council’s goals are not mine. I crossed through that portal the first time to search, not retrieve. I found a dozen Venators on several different continents, but I was looking for someone I hoped would be able to resist the corruption of the council. The Venators would be coming regardless. I was searching for two who had the potential to actually be what this world needs. I chose you.”
“You ‘chose’ me? Am I supposed to feel special? Because I don’t!” Rune raised her chin. “What if I want to go home?”
Tate shrugged, tossing the cleaned carcass over his shoulder. “You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“First of all, the council would never allow it. They would rather see you dead.” He leaned forward, eyebrows furrowed. “If the council senses that you aren’t what they’re looking for or that you’ve betrayed them, it is entirely possible they will execute you and simply wait until they retrieve someone more suitable to their needs.” Relaxing back, he continued. “Secondly, when the witch’s original sealing spell faded, the wizard Arwin attempted to close the door permanently to prevent Zio from crossing over to your world. He was unable, so he cursed it instead. The door opens at random. You never know where or when it will open or for how long.”
“So we wait until it opens,” Rune said.
“You can’t.”
“I’m a very patient person. Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”
Grey hid a smile, but Tate openly snorted. “Yes, clearly very patient.”
Rune opened her mouth, ready to lay into Tate, when he slyly added, “Besides, what about Ryker?”
She deflated like a balloon. Not the kind that’s released to whizz around the house, but the kind that slowly sinks to the floor as the helium escapes its Mylar prison.
“You don’t understand,” Tate said. “The door could open anywhere. You have to find it and get through before it snaps shut again. After my first visit, I intended to return within three years—once you’d aged a little more. The gate didn’t open for six.”
“Six years?” she whispered.
“Yes. The council was . . . angry.”
A boom ripped through the air, and the dome shattered into thousands of pieces that rained around them. Grey ducked, and Rune squeaked, throwing her arms over her head.
Tate acted as if nothing had happened. “I’m surprised you’re upset, Rune.”
She slowly unfolded, shaking the shattered glass from her arms. “You’re surprised? You take me away from my family, my friends, and my brother! You throw me into a world that’s crawling with who knows what, act like I’m a piece of property to this . . . council, and you’re surprised I’m upset?”
