Page 66 of Bane of Hate and Silver (Primordial Inheritance #1)

R.I.P.

D emetria sat on the edge of Carson’s bed.

This was not her bed. This was not her room.

Not her home. This place was a waystation of death and pain.

She’d fled here when Micha died in hopes Carson had changed.

That he’d see the truth laid before him.

She’d run back to the past she’d run away from, in hopes of protecting her son’s future.

Allowing her past abuser to possess her, violate her, in hopes that both her son and she would be protected should the vampire try to find and murder them.

Instead of granting that protection, Carson slaughtered her son; sentencing carried out without a trial.

Guilt considered proven to only one. Demetria relived the last moment she’d seen Micha alive as she did every time Carson had been inside her.

Her husband had kissed her on the hair and told her he’d be back soon with their son.

But he’d never returned. Her last moments with her son had been clouded under an argument.

Carson had taken every last shred that was left of her and murdered that too.

Ricky was dead. Micha was dead. And either she or Carson was going to join them now.

Demetria stood on determined legs. With a great howl her wolf form broke free from inside her human one. Out of the room, down the stairs, and through where the screen door should have been, she ran.

Her need for vengeance drove her through the edge of town toward the vampire’s house. There was no justice strong enough to be served. But revenge, revenge she could have. Carson had gone out to the coast to meet the traitors in battle, but they would not be his doom.

As she neared the beach, she swerved around a cop car with flashing red lights.

Carson had stationed wolves, pretending to be cops, or maybe they were cops, at every access road to the area.

At least there were precautions in place to stop avoidable human casualties.

Demetria didn’t take any notice of anyone, werewolf or human alike.

Once she arrived, sand shifted under every paw fall as the sounds of growling and cheering grew louder. Still at a distance she returned to human form. It took only a few moments for Demetria’s steady stride to place her in the midst of the jeering pack.

A few wolves turned toward the new arrival, but most remained transfixed on the small, red-haired, vampire pinned as Carson’s large fists connected with her face repeatedly. The vampire was weak, no longer resisting. He could kill her, but instead, he continued to extend her pain.

Ben noticed Demetria. “This ends now.” Her voice was barely audible but Ben nodded. He knew then, confirming once again who’d murdered her child. Silently, he and the big attractive Den member parted the sea of bystanders so Demetria had a clear path to the Alpha.

Carson’s back was too her, he lifted his shoulders out of a hunch, pointed his face upward, and howled; a wolf’s cry of victory. Others followed their Alpha’s lead, a great roar penetrating the sounds of the stormy sea.

Demetria’s gaze fell on something else. The essence of power harmlessly lying beside Carson’s right knee. The large silver knife. The one Carson kept by his bedside. The one weapon that held the power to kill if only it was wielded.

Using the chorus of victory howls as a distraction Demetria approached, lifting the blade off the sand. She acted faster than anyone could react.

In the space of a small breath, the curved blade plunged into Carson’s back, right between his shoulder blades. He roared in agony, attempting to dislodge his attacker but Demetria’s grip on the knife was firm. She wrenched the blade free and placed it across his neck.

Carson froze and sniffed the rain thick air. “Demetria? Why?”

“I know what you did,” she snarled, digging the blade into his flesh enough to cause a thin necklace of blood to form. She leaned down close to his ear. “And now you will die for it.”

Carson began to shake, the silver beginning to enter his blood stream from the wound on his back. “The boy?” he choked out as he weakened.

Demetria ignored his words, not caring what came out of the murderer’s mouth. “But you didn’t know. You are too blind to see…”

“Whore,” he sputtered and made to reach behind him in a feeble attempt to dislodge her. In response she shoved at the back of his head, forcing the blade to cut deeper into his throat.

“It’s ironic really,” Demetria crooned. “For one so obsessed with legacy to have murdered his own.”

“What?” Carson forced out as his body began to give way to the poison. Silver poison eroding him from the inside, like it had done to her child.

“He was your son.” Her tone was lethally calm.

She lifted the knife from Carson’s neck and he looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

The surprise there confirming that he had understood her.

Without another word she brought the knife down in a swift movement, plunging it into his chest, right into his barely beating heart.

She left the blade lodged there, injecting silver straight into it, killing him instantly.

She shoved the body sideways as it fell, keeping it from crushing the mostly dead vampire.

Her son’s death was not the vampire’s fault.

Carson’s blood drenched body dropped to the sand with a thud.

Moments later, the beast was gone. Only the body of an unremarkable grey wolf remained. “Any who mourn him are fools,” she spat. The wolves parted as she moved away from her vengeance. Abuser. Monster. Murderer. Dead.

With a pained howl, Demetria returned to her natural state; lost forever inside her grief and fur. She would finish her journey on this earth with four paws.

The rain stopped.

Luca broke away from the wolves who had been keeping him from Jules’s side as they stared at their dead Alpha. The pack seemed stunned and confused.

“Jules,” he shouted as he skidded to a stop next to where she lay on the sand. “Jules?” He knelt, cradling the top half of her limp body on his lap. She lay unmoving, not even a flutter of eyelids when he begged her to wake. The sand beneath them continued to drench with her blood.

“Wake up?” he said, brushing sand and blood off her face. “Please wake up.” Tears started to well up in his eyes as he stared down at her unmoving, badly beaten, body.

Luca barely registered as Jules’s twin brother dropped to the sand next to them. “She needs blood. Now,” Nick said, placing a hand on her unmoving chest and looking up at Gabriel expectantly.

“We don’t have any more.” Gabriel’s head hung low.

Luca stared at her, panicked. He knew she needed human blood; wolf blood would do nothing. He could do nothing to save her. He pressed his face to hers, willing her to wake regardless.

“Then we find some. There has to be a human around here somewhere,” Nick snapped standing to his feet.

“I have blood.”

All eyes turned toward the strong feminine voice that had spoken. Towards the two humans approaching them from the direction of Jules’s house. Looking up with tear obstructed vision, Luca saw Monica and Tai. When they had arrived on the beach, he couldn’t guess.

“She wouldn’t want that, Monica,” Gabriel told her, placing a hand on the young woman’s shoulder, while staring down at Jules.

“I don’t care what she wants,” Monica said, yanking her shoulder free.

With only the slightest moment of apprehension, Monica bent over the dead wolf.

Reaching down with trembling fingers, she pulled the large silver knife from the beast’s chest with a sickening squelch.

“That’s… gross.” She cringed but closed the distance between them while Tai retched behind her.

“Monica wait.” Tai ran after her, but before anyone could interfere, she sliced her arm above the wrist. Crying out in pain, she dropped the knife, and held her shaking arm.

In the blink of an eye Nick was lunging for the bleeding human. Kyle tackled him to the sand and was able to restrain him with the help of Adam and Kip who’d been standing nearby. “Not again.” Luca heard him say.

Gabriel, seemingly in complete control of himself, had wrapped his arms around his wife, who thrashed against him.

Despite the danger, Monica walked forward, blood dripping down her arm, and knelt in Nick’s vacated spot by Jules’s side.

Luca threw out his hand, grabbing Monica by the wrist. “Are you sure about this?”

“Not at all,” Monica replied. “But she’s worth the risk.” Luca was stunned by Monica’s show of courage as she leaned over Jules and let her blood trickle between Jules’s lips.

“Drink, Jules,” she pleaded quietly.

After a few moments of no response, Luca’s heartbeat started to quicken. It couldn’t be too late. He couldn’t lose her now.

One moment, Jules’s tongue peaked out from between her lips to lick the blood. The next, Monica’s arm was clamped by Jules’s hands. Her fangs sinking deep into Monica’s flesh as she drank. Monica winced but didn’t pull away.

Jules saw a familiar face, but it was different, the perspective was off.

The face more angular, the hair brighter, the iridescent silver eyes alluring.

Ageless. She hadn’t seen that face since she’d become a vampire.

Her face, but not her face. This was her vampire face through the eyes of one that loved her.

Jules heard Monica’s vibrant laugh accompany her own musical one.

The image of Jules faded, and Ethan became the focus of Monica’s next memory. “You can’t have a crush on my best friend. It’s creepy. Get over it!” Monica yelled at the beautiful, blue-eyed boy. Jules could feel the irritation Monica felt but also the love.

“I don’t have a crush,” he whimpered, a red flush betraying him. “And I’m not creepy.”

Next Monica’s blood led Jules to Tai and then her parents. There was so much love in this human’s life. “We have to go back Tai,” Monica pleaded.

“We can’t. Jules said…” Tai began to protest.