Revelation Read online

  Paige leads me from the room and down the grand staircase. I want to enjoy the view again, maybe slow down and look things over more carefully—I just noticed how many of the wall sconces appear to be made of tiny bones—but I’m developing something like tunnel vision. It’s not panic. Not yet. But we’re headed toward Bethany’s workroom. All of my attention is on quieting my power.

  Angry though I might be at him, I can’t help wishing it were Daniel escorting me again tonight. Maybe he wouldn’t be at liberty to tell me what’s going on, but he’d be familiar in a way that nothing else is around here. I’m off-balance, and it’s not just because of these fucking boots. It’s as if the world has tilted, placing everything at an angle. Slightly wrong though it all looks objectively fine.

  I turn my thoughts to something more appropriate than fear—Paige, walking just a few paces ahead of me. The smell of the blood in her veins. Her heartbeat calling out to me, promising the taste of life. The mere thought of it shifts my senses into high gear, sending a hunger akin to lust coursing through me, reminding me of what I am.

  A monster. Hungry, but strong. Ready for whatever comes, especially if she’s the reward that awaits me at the end. All I need is permission.

  We stop outside a door made of heavy wood slabs—Bethany’s workroom door, which I vaguely remember Daniel pointing out to me last night. Paige turns and leaves without another word.

  I could take off. Running would be difficult in this footwear, but I could wander. Pretend I’m lost. Poke around, see what I can learn. Get caught and questioned, inevitably. What did Daniel say? I need to impress them. And I can’t let myself believe I’m here on a mission.

  Aviva has to stay locked away for now. Ava can consider herself permanently on duty, at least until an opportunity presents itself more clearly.

  This had better work.

  I raise my fist and knock three times. Firmly. Fearlessly.

  Daniel told me not to lie, but surely I can bluff a little, at least with Bethany.

  The door swings open. I fight to keep my expression under control, reminding myself that she doesn’t know she and I have history reaching back before last night.

  Bethany is dressed similarly to me, but her blouse is buttoned to the neck, held closed by a cameo brooch featuring the image of Medusa’s head. Her skirt is black, and her heels notably lower than mine. She looks up at me, and I suppress a shudder. Her eyes are nearly pure black, a cold and hard contrast against the deep copper of her skin.

  “Come in, Aviva.” Her voice is as I remember it, calm and confident, her accent downright intoxicating. She turns her back to me as though she has nothing to fear, leaving me to close the heavy door behind me. Her steps are as graceful and confident as they were that night at the abandoned store, when I watched her put Viktor in his place before asking him to sign away my clan’s freedom.

  I’m not opening myself to her power though I’m curious about what I’d perceive if I drew on my gifts. But I can imagine it. Bottomless and black as the night, and the one thing I crave at the moment more than blood.

  It’s not easy to tear my attention away from her, but the room demands its share. I’ve stepped into a space that looks like the setting for a high-tech fairy tale. Stone block walls, decorative tapestries, and a black cauldron over a low fire rest surprisingly comfortably next to shining glass beakers and chrome countertops.

  Bethany watches as I take it all in. “What do you think of my humble laboratory?”

  “It’s lovely. What do you do here?”

  She smiles and leans back against one of the counters. “Not your turn to ask questions just yet. But I am glad you like it. I hope you’ll be spending a good deal of time here in the future. Go ahead. See what you see.”

  I don’t want to turn my back on her no matter how warm her welcome is, but it seems rude to stand and stare at her. I make my way toward the fire. It’s strange for a vampire to have a fireplace, given our instinctive fear of flames. We can overcome it, of course, but most of us don’t invite it in. The liquid in the cauldron smells of mint and lemon.

  There are shelves on the wall covered in glass jars and bottles, but they don’t contain the horrors I expect to find preserved in them. Herbs, mostly. Flowers, roots, leaves, all dried and labelled in neat handwritten script. Not a bat’s wing or newt’s eye in sight.

  I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and spin to face Bethany, but she’s just pushing away from the counter to come closer. Her eyes shine. “Jumpy. What do you have to be so afraid of?”

  My skin feels cold in spite of the cozy fire. “I got the impression that you’re quite powerful. That you have influence here. And I don’t know what you want with me. Not understanding the situation puts me on my guard.”

  “I see.” She looks steadily into my eyes, searching. “But I don’t believe you have no idea why I’m interested in you.”

  I fight to keep my power contained, but I know she’s opened herself to me. If I’m right about her—if her gifts are like mine—she could feel my fire no matter what I do.

  She’s holding back a smile. She knows. She’s just waiting to see what I’m going to do about it.

  “It’s my power,” I say. “You have a gift for sensing them, don’t you? You weren’t interested in saving me until I slipped up.”

  “And what you showed in that moment interests me greatly.” She rests one hand on her hip. “Tell me, Aviva, what is your gift? What led to you possessing this werewolf power?”

  “Actually, it’s—” I hesitate. Correcting an elder in Maelstrom would be a delicate proposition, and that felt safe compared to this. I don’t know what her position here is, but I have to be careful. “I was wondering whether it would be all right if I went by Ava. I decided before I came here that I wanted a clean break, and that’s the name I chose.”

  “Naturally.” She says this like it’s nothing. “Happens all the time when vampires change clans. But hiding behind your new name when you arrived may have been a mistake.”

  “I picked up on that.”

  She gives me a half smile. “Your name isn’t important. Your power and gifts are what interest us, at least primarily.”

  I take a deep breath. “I guess my gift might be similar to yours. I’m aware of supernatural energies in ways others aren’t. I didn’t understand it until recently, though, and I’m still figuring it out. As for my current state…” I shrug. “It’s a long story. I felt fire. I got too close to it. I guess I got burned.”

  Shame seems the proper approach, whatever my true feelings might be. If Ava can’t hide her fire, she can at least have the good sense to hate it.

  She chuckles. “Fire. Is that what they call it?”

  I remember her words, her disgusted tone the night she spoke with Viktor. This island reeks of werewolf.

  “It’s what I call it. The name fits their energy as well as void fits ours.”

  “Hmm.” She rubs her fingertips over her chin. Her nails are short, neatly manicured with clear polish. “And when you say you got too close…”

  “I fed on one of them. I was desperate.”

  She wrinkles her nose. “I should hope so. What was it like?” She sounds genuinely curious.

  “Strange. Different. But it worked as well as a human’s.”

  “If only it weren’t for that lingering side effect, eh?” She shakes her head but seems more amused than disgusted—just one more thing to throw me off-balance.

  I lick my lips. They taste like fake cherries. “Is that it, then? You’ve found me out. I’m a freak. Tainted. Damaged. An insult to the void and vampire-kind. Are you going to have me executed for it?”

  She walks toward the fire and reaches for a long wooden spoon to stir the contents of the cauldron. “I’m undecided. I don’t think you’re a threat.” She glances back over her shoulder. “Not because of this, anyway. The rest remains to be seen and isn’t entirely up to me to judge. In the meantime, I’d like to explore your condition to
see what light it could shed on my own research and experiments.”

  “… Which you can’t talk about.”

  She comes closer again and circles behind me. I don’t take the bait. I’m aware of her even if I’m not looking. She doesn’t get to control my movements.

  “I can. I simply wanted you to answer my questions first.” She pulls out a tall stool and gestures for me to sit. I do, and she joins me on another as if we’re at a bar. Just a couple of friends having a chat.

  Sure.

  “Most of what I do involves caring for the humans who live among us, keeping them healthy and strong so they can do the same for us.”

  I open my mouth to ask about them—who they are, why they’re here, what their lives are like—but stop myself. She may be talking, but it’s still not time to ask questions. I can’t seem to be prying.

  I’m never prying, though, am I? Just a poor outcast vampire who’s curious about her new home.

  “But I also work on Lachlan’s more personal mission,” Bethany says, “which has naturally become the clan’s mission.”

  “Of course,” I say, as though this makes perfect sense.

  Bethany’s full lips pull into a catlike smile. “It’s not so obvious to you, is it? I know how Miranda works. Maelstrom has a high elder, but she runs everything by committee. She’s too uncertain to take control and make things happen, so she lets opposing viewpoints stall any progress she might make—a necessity, I suppose, with a leader as weak-minded and misguided as she is. You’ll find things work differently here. Lachlan isn’t afraid of his own power, and he doesn’t let anyone or anything get in the way of his vision.”

  “Which is?”

  Bethany closes her eyes. “I’ll answer that with another question. What do you feel when you open yourself here?”

  I’d assume this was a trap if she didn’t already know about the fire.

  It rises, brightening the darkness of the void, sharpening my perceptions.

  “Stop,” Bethany says. “Not with that.”

  My fire fades, and I focus on using my gift without it, drawing only on the power I died into. It’s easier than I expected, and what I feel is astounding. I caught a hint of it in the vampires at the graveyard, but it’s clearer here now that I’m calm and focused.

  “Void,” I whisper. My breath catches in my throat. “I noticed the lack of other energies in this territory before, but…”

  “Tell me more. Show me your gift.”

  “It’s strong. Overwhelming.” I’m sinking into the black depths of our mutual power, seeing it as I never have before—dominant, nearly unopposed. I can only imagine how it will feel to draw from this well when I feed. There’s something frightening about it, but in a way that only makes it more desirable.

  It’s like a purer version of a drug I’m already addicted to.

  When I open my eyes again, Bethany is watching me.

  “This is Lachlan’s mission, and therefore this clan’s calling. Purifying the void by eliminating those powers that keep it from reaching this strength. We’re not the only vampires to attempt it, but our successes have been particularly encouraging.” She narrows her eyes at me and tilts her head to one side. “Unfortunately for you, my experiments in removing other powers from the entities they’re attached to have had… let’s say, less than desirable outcomes.”

  My mouth goes dry. “Is that what you want me for? Experiments on the fire?”

  I almost say my fire, but it would be a mistake to claim it so openly.

  She laughs. I haven’t met many vampires who took such delight in anything. I don’t trust her. I’m certain I don’t like her. But if I’m being honest, it’s refreshing to see one of my kind enjoying the moment, even if it’s at my expense.

  “No. I want your help. We’re creating a new world here, Ava. One where other species and powers bow before the void if we allow them to exist at all. We will remain in darkness, as is our nature, but shadows will cover the world so we may roam where we please. Our prey fear and respect us, and we will take what is rightfully ours without hesitation. A dark paradise—one that Maelstrom stands in the way of, but that will change.”

  “Sounds… nice,” I say. And it does—assuming I ignore the other implications as Ava must. “But it also sounds like breaking a lot of secrecy laws.”

  She waves that off with a flutter of her fingers. “Keeping our existence secret has allowed this clan to grow strong. The laws have served their purpose for more than a century, but the world is changing and Tempest is leading the way. There are pieces that still need to fall into place, obstacles to overcome, but we’re making progress toward a world where those laws are no longer necessary. And if you’re here to find a better way forward than what you had in the clan that rejected you, your gift could be an asset.”

  I look away. “I guess that is why I’m here. What is it you’re doing, exactly? And what obstacles are you overcoming?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about. We have it under control.”

  She sounds confident.

  If she’s referring to Maelstrom and the powers that flow so freely there, that means she doesn’t know about what happened to Viktor—what I did to him to stop their plan. Miranda may be keeping it quiet, but the news will eventually reach them here. I have to work quickly, find out what their backup plan might be before I find a way to escape.

  Shit. No. I push those thoughts aside, burying them under the story of how I ran away from vampires intent on executing me—Ava’s truth, not Aviva’s.

  “What do I need to do now?” I ask. “I’m feeling a bit lost. I don’t know whether I’m a prisoner or what. Daniel’s orientation last night wasn’t very helpful.”

  Bethany nods slowly. “It wasn’t meant to be. I wanted to let you start acclimating yourself to your surroundings, but given your history, there’s no chance we can reveal everything. And though you’re not a prisoner, we can’t let you leave. We’re very secure—we have to be with so many humans present who are denied access to the world above. But we also understand what you’re escaping from. And if you have as much potential as I think you have, and if you use it well, you might eventually find a proper home among us.” She searches my eyes. “Is something wrong?”

  Dig in deeper. Plant seeds.

  I give her an uncertain smile. “It’s strange to hear you talking like that about me. I’ve always felt like I had to hide myself.” I hate how easily the words come, how I’m not lying at all. “It seemed like showing I was too strong would make me a threat to those above me. The idea of being able to push forward and use what I have without hiding it is appealing. But it feels like a trap.”

  Bethany’s brow furrows. “You’ll run into that a lot in the world of vampires, but don’t let it concern you here. Lachlan’s secure enough in his position that he doesn’t see threats where they don’t exist. If you honestly desire to serve this clan, you should feel free to use your gifts and power.”

  I let out a long, slow breath. “Can anyone else feel the fire in me like you can?”

  “No. I’m teaching Lachlan to be aware of his reactions to power in others—the void always responds to it even if most vampires don’t have any real sense of it—but sensitivity to something like fire can’t be taught. You should keep that quiet, though, especially if there are visible manifestations.”

  “That’s a good idea anyway,” I add, as much to myself as to her. “It seems to make some vampires angry, particularly if they weren’t feeling kindly toward me to begin with.”

  Bethany doesn’t seem surprised. “As I said, the void reacts. If we’re not conscious of it, we’re no better than puppets on strings. I suppose our gifts give us an advantage there, too. At least we understand why we feel revulsion toward werewolves.” She purses her lips thoughtfully. “You do still feel revulsion?”

  I think back to my first moments with Violet just a few nights ago. “Not to the fire in myself, but maybe in others. I guess I won’t be meeting
many werewolves around here to test it.”

  “I should hope not.” Bethany rises and crosses the room to move the ashy wood around in the fireplace. The fire is dying, but she doesn’t feed it. “My own awareness of other energies tends to come with negative physical effects. Weakness, nausea, pain. Is it the same for you?”

  “Not exactly. More like sensing them as colours or sensations. Vibrations, heat, electricity, that kind of thing. It’s not always pleasant, but not always bad, either.”

  Bethany sets the poker aside. “I can’t say I’m not jealous.”

  “Magic gives me anxiety.” I don’t know why I offer this except that it feels amazing to be able to talk about it with someone who understands and isn’t judging me. I have to be careful. I can’t afford to make friends here, especially with someone who’s already shown herself to be the enemy. But it would be stupid of me not to learn as much as I can from someone who’s been using this gift far longer than I have—and who’s used it to rise to power instead of letting it isolate her.

  Bethany smiles. “I suppose that’s something, at least.”

  “Okay, so I should show off the void and hide the scar. Is that all?”

  “Basically.” She comes closer and leans on the counter beside me. “It won’t always be this difficult for you to hide it. These supernatural energies are carried by living—or dead, in our case—beings who anchor it in the world. There are no werewolves here, no fire except for what’s in you. If you stay here, if you bury that power, in time you won’t have to worry about hiding it. It will fade.” She flashes me a mischievous grin. “Think of it like a bad tattoo. A regrettable reminder of a mistake you made in the past but a measure of how much wiser you are now.”

  I laugh just a little. It’s not how I want to think of the fire I’ve come to appreciate, but it’s certainly an interesting mental image. “I’ll try.”

  I’m about to ask more about her experience with her gift when a knock at the door interrupts me. Bethany answers, and Paige steps in, gaze lowered.

  “I apologize for interrupting. Lachlan requests Aviva’s company for a meal tonight. Within the hour, in fact.”