Page 14 of Dark Souls

Bloodlines And Brutal Ends

E xpertly balancing the pile of ancient history books between my hand and my chin, I used my other hand to unlock the apartment door and let myself in. I kicked the door shut with the back of my boot, and my overstuffed bag fell from my shoulder to the floor. I barely got the books onto the dining room table before they toppled from their precarious stack. Damn, even with my vampire strength, I could appreciate how weighty these beasts were. Why are books so heavy when paper feels weightless? I guess, in this instance, they carry the weight of centuries of mysteries and truths, and I hope that at least one of them will give me more information on Heathen’s supposedly extinct breed.

I rolled my shoulders before shrugging off my leather jacket and draping it over a nearby chair. A small smile formed on my lips as I glanced around at the chaotic, brightly decorated bohemian flat that belonged to my best friend Neve. Well, technically it was owned by her mum, Calli, but when we turned fourteen, she gave us the keys and let us use it as our own space to just hang out together away from our crazy families. The place was filled with nostalgic memories of late nights singing at the top of our lungs while jumping on the furniture, movie marathons with ice cream and bickering over whether we’d watch a horror (my pick) or a rom-com (always Neve’s). We’d even made voodoo dolls when Neve first had her heart broken by Ivan Durham, her first crush and kiss, who then proceeded to kiss four other girls the same night, but of course, we never went through with using them. Though he may or may not have mysteriously found his favourite letterman jacket shredded in his locker the next day. He’d thrown a tantrum like a little bitch. My highlight of that year.

This place was the opposite of me in every way. Warm, inviting, colourful and with so much vibrance. It was Neve. And just being here without her felt completely wrong but also comforting. It had been a few weeks since she’d found out she was mated to Heroux warrior wolf twins ( lucky bitch) and had left with them to return to their realm. I couldn’t blame her or even be mad at her for leaving me behind, because I knew how much finding her destined mates meant to her. She’d dreamed about it since she was a kid. Ever the romantic, she had high hopes and big dreams for the loves of her life and I prayed the Usoro twins had what it took to make them come true. Was I happy for her? Unbelievably. Was I a little jealous? Naturally. Not because I hadn’t found my soulmate yet. I was in no rush for that, but because I would no longer be Neve’s number one person. I knew she had a big heart and more than enough love to go around, but I couldn’t lie and say that it didn’t fucking suck for me. Inevitably, things would change. But I didn’t count on her living in a completely different realm when she found them. It was also the longest time we had gone with no contact. It wouldn’t be so bad for her because time moved differently where she was. A week in Heroux was the equivalent to three weeks in the human realm.

It was a modest two-bedroom flat in the middle of a small town in Oregon, so it was extremely handy to crash here after a night out or to get a little space from my crazy, nosy family, which was needed every so often. I strolled into Neve’s room, finding everything exactly how it was left when we were last here. Messy. Her clothes lay scattered across the floor, chair, bed, and even over the mirror. Makeup and hair accessories lay discarded all over her vanity table. I smiled when I picked up our embarrassing scrapbook filled with teenage ramblings and ridiculous wishes for our futures. Neve had always been a scrapbook kinda girl. Manifesting destiny, she called it. I, on the other hand, was a journal girl. Dark and deep thoughts scribbled across blank pages just to give my brain a break.

Opening the huge scrapbook with cut-out magazine models, sketches and glitter, I read the page I’d landed on with amusement at our teenage selves. It was our dream list of attributes we hoped our fated mates would have. I remember her so vividly forcing me to do this shit as I groaned and rolled my eyes, more interested in attempting to dye my hair pink than talking about pointless romantic crap.

“This so stupid, Neve. We don’t get to choose who our soulmates are, so why waste our time thinking about what we want them to be like? They’ll be whoever they’re meant to be.”

“Because it’s fun! Just think, we can look at this one day and see if we were right. If we’re lucky, we’ll get the exact type of guy we want.”

“Sounds like a recipe for disappointment.”

“Do you always have to be such a negative Nelly? Come on, Ilaria, there must be something you want your mate to be?”

“Breathing. That would be a good start.”

“Haha. Seriously, tell me just three things.”

“I am serious. Our mates could die before we even get a chance to meet them. I think breathing is perfectly good criteria.”

“Omg, you are so morbid.” She slammed her hand over her forehead and shook her head.

“Fine. Tell me your checklist for the perfect guy,” I’d said, indulging her just to see her smile again.

“Hot. Obviously. Not super fussy on species, but if I could pick, I’d go with a wolf. Sexy. Good kisser. Kind. Loyal. Protective but not obsessive or anything. Sweet. Romantic. A fighter but a lover type. Funny. Manly but with a gooey centre. A six-pack, oh and one of those V things that dips—”

I burst out laughing. She chuckled with innocence as she shouted defensively, “What?”

“Not asking for much, then?”

“Hey, I’m manifesting here. Why would I not ask for everything I want? Come on then, let’s hear yours.”

I shook my head, leaning back against the headboard of her bed. “Honestly, I haven’t really thought much about it. Or him. I guess I just presume that as my soulmate, he’ll be my match, so why drive myself crazy wondering?”

“It’s not crazy! It’s exciting. Just try it. Okay, would you want him to be kind-hearted?” I shrugged my shoulders. She huffed. “Obviously good-looking?”

“Looks don’t really bother me that much. I’d rather him look… different to the norm, I guess. Alternative. Not classically handsome or anything.”

“Okay.” She nodded, trying to keep her excitement at bay that she was finally getting somewhere with me. “Species?”

I sighed. “Vampire, I guess. It would make things easier.”

“How so?”

“They’d understand. They’d be able to relate to the urges.”

“The blood?” she clarified.

I scoffed. “Yeah. And the other stuff.”

“Okay, so a rude, alternative, quirky-looking vampire. We are onto a winner.”

“Hey, I didn’t judge your nauseous choices!”

“They are not nauseous!”

“Sweet? Romantic? Manly with a gooey centre? Please, I’d throw up.”

“So you would rather they be an asshole?”

“For you? No. For me? Maybe. It would make life more interesting. Challenging. And you know, I thrive with a challenge. I dunno. I guess I just don’t want to be bored shitless. I want someone… who isn’t perfect. Who has flaws, is unpredictable and matches my crazy. I want someone I can be completely myself with without the fear that they’ll run a mile when I reveal my quirks. Someone who recognises their own monsters and lets them find a home in the darkness with mine.”

Neve stared at me blankly, blinking a few times as my words settled between us.

“Goddess, you’re a weird girl. But I love you.”

I ran my fingers over the lists, hers much longer than mine, before I slammed it shut and placed it under her bed, which had been its home for years. I was morbid back then, but I was even more so now. Everything I’d said had been the truth. Except now, I knew what I wanted. I wanted someone with a dark soul who would love me so fiercely and passionately that he wouldn’t even think twice about burning the world at his feet for me. Someone who would always keep life interesting and keep me on my toes. Because that is who I would be for them. And ever since Neve had found her mates, the possibility of meeting my own had crept into my mind, especially in the dead of the night.

I hadn’t been getting much sleep since Heathen had entered my life like a fucking tsunami of chaos. Before, it was the disturbing possibility of him turning up to watch me while I drooled on my pillow that kept me awake, but since I had seen his true form, something had shifted within me. Unholy thoughts of him plagued my mind, causing me to toss and turn for the last two nights.

I found myself wishing he’d appear. Which was just absurd. Who in their right mind hoped their stalker would come for them? And not just any average stalker. A lethal serial-killing demonic monster who was supposed to be extinct! Maybe it was time to accept what I had been lying to myself about for weeks. Those things that most normal people would find terrifying only fed a deep insatiable hunger in me that craved darkness and depravity instead of peace and light. Seeing Heathen in his true form had only deepened that appetite. He was the most beautiful monster I had ever seen. And if the dark fantasies that were playing out in my dreams the last two nights were anything to go by, I was into some weird, kinky shit. Was it technically beastility if I was a vampire too? I wonder if he could have sex whilst flying? I’d only had sex with a human, a warlock and one vampire before, and none of them were more powerful than me. There was just something so thrilling about knowing that this deadly creature could effortlessly snap my neck while ramming his gigantic— No. Bad brain. What is going on with me?

It hadn’t helped that the fucker had rubbed his dark and alluring scent all over my bedsheets and jerked himself off in my own fucking bed. At first, I was livid. He’d literally ripped my bed apart. And I knew I should have felt disgusted. I knew any sane person would be. Instead, I found myself wishing he’d have videoed it. That was something I really wanted to see. The heady scent of his cum, shredded silk canopy and rumpled sheets only left me with the wild images of what he must have got up to. A hot flush rushed through me once again as the perverse fantasies raced through my mind.

‘We are so fucking horny! Why hasn’t he come back to see us? What an asshole! Edging us with that near-orgasm, giving us a glimpse of how he could make us feel, fucking himself in our bed and then taking off like a bat in the night.’

I sighed at Rue’s persistence. Not only was I dealing with my own promiscuous thoughts but her pent-up arousal too. She’d never been so horny before. And nor had I. This was bad. Terrible.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew I should’ve been terrified of what I saw. I knew I should run for the hills and scream at the top of my lungs to my family so they’d hunt him down like the rest of his kind had been hunted and killed centuries ago because of the threat they posed to humankind. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I wondered if he could make me feel the kind of pleasure he did just by probing my mind the other night. What would it be like to allow him to touch me? To allow those claws to drag across my skin? To pin my hands above my head while I allowed that long forked tongue to…

The horny images that flooded my mind made me shudder with a mix of fear, excitement and desire. Damn, I had it bad. Get a grip, Ilaria!

Locking the perverted thoughts away, I made my way back to the open-plan living space and sat down at the dining table, exhaling a deep breath. Research. That’s what I needed to focus on. He said he was the villain in all the history books, so now it was time to see what I was really dealing with. Hopefully, hearing about all the reasons I should fear this demon would talk some sense into my sex-obsessed brain.

During my time at the Academy, I’d heard a few folklores about the original demonic bloodlines. The vampire syllabus included lessons about the first vampires of each breed and how they have adapted over time. There were so many myths created by humans over the years and most were false; a fabrication of manic hysteria that humans liked to create around the idea of us. Like the fact we would turn to flames under direct sunlight or we are repelled by garlic. I mean, come on. As repelling as garlic breath is, it won’t kill me. And don’t even get me started on those sparkly skin types in the movies.

No, the reality was vampires had existed longer than any other supernatural species. In fact, witches and werewolves only came about because of us. Witches were given magic by the Goddess Hecate and the moon Goddess Selene gifted her wolves to keep the vampires in check. To maintain balance in the human realm before vampires destroyed everything with their impulsive bloodthirst. We had always been seen as the villains in history, just like Heath suggested, but I knew that wasn’t the case. Every species had the capacity to be evil, including humans.

There are many theories about how vampires first came about. My favourite was that Hades and Persephone’s love created the vampires. A dark entity that was formed through the true love of darkness and light. It was why so many of us referred to our vampire counterparts as demons because they were our inner darkness. Hades’ influence. But there had only ever been one breed of vampire that actually had demonic abilities. Heathen’s breed.

I was classed as a Royal Sangura vampire just like my great-grandfather Lucius Romano. I came from a long line of pure-blooded vampires that were born from two vampires of equal power and hierarchy. Sangura vampires were famous for their strength, speed, sophisticated and complex emotions. Some were also given special gifts, mine being telepathy. However, the mystery was that my dad was a wolf and my mother a tribrid (vampire, witch and wolf), yet when my blood was tested, only pure ancient Sangura blood was detected. My brothers’ blood work showed similar results: Lorcan had only pure Alabaster wolf blood, and Leif had only Anderson magic in his blood. We were an enigma. It was as if the prior two generations hadn’t existed in our genes, and we had each taken on the pure blood of our great-grandparents.

I grabbed the first book from the towering pile and brushed off the thick coating of dust that lay on the cover . Damn, this book had seen better days. But then it was hundreds of years old and from the very back aisle that barely anyone ventured down in my grandpapi’s library. History of Vampires. A riveting title but I guess it did the trick. I lifted the leather-bound book, only to groan when I saw it was written in Latin. Ugh, headache pending . I’d been forced to learn it at school but it hadn’t come naturally to me, unlike my brother Leif, who was fluent. But I could muddle through if I focused enough. Scanning the contents page, I searched for the word daemonium or any variations of it. Flicking to the first page that mentioned demons, I skim read until I found something interesting.

It was the story dating back to 666 AD of a beautiful Slavic vampire named Katrina who lived in a human village, hiding her true identity so she could live in peace. She longed for a child, but female vampires can only ever get pregnant during their heat, which happens only once a year. Normally, it would only be triggered when they found their soulmate. Katrina had lived for many years alone, yearning for her lover or a child. For years, she had tried to get pregnant by seducing the men in her village, but she never could. The villagers, who were already weary of her because she seemed so different, shunned her and people feared her, believing she was cursed.

With nowhere left to turn but to magic, she sought the help of a Seer. She told the Seer that she was willing to give anything, to do anything, for the chance of a child. Even to sell her soul to the God of the Underworld, Veles. The deal was made. That very night, a demon from the Underworld came to her. Months later, she had a baby boy. That should have been a happy ending, right? Wrong. The baby boy grew up to be a monstrous beast gifted with a combination of vampire and demon abilities. A special breed known as Demonski Upir. His mother, blinded by her unconditional love for the child, allowed the boy to attack and kill all the people in her village, one by one, night after night, until there were none left. Unfortunately, by the time he was an adult, his relentless thirst had driven him to kill Katrina and rampage throughout Europe. However, he did not just kill but also seduced many women, impregnating them with his bloodline until there was a small but no doubt threatening breed of predator that wreaked havoc in the human world.

By the 18th century, a frenzy of vampire sightings and terror was sweeping through Europe. Where other breeds of vampires like Sanguras, the dhamphirs (vampires that were born from a human and vampire breeding) and the civilian vampires (humans turned vampire after their death) had adapted to become more civilised and hid in plain sight among the humans, the Upirs did not. They could not be contained. Their demon side was too demanding, too strong, too impulsive and too deadly. The other vampire breeds, the witches and werewolves, were all growing more and more concerned. It became apparent that the Upirs were the problem and they needed to be stopped. Not only to protect other supernatural identities and human lives but also because Upirs targeted and fed from all living things, not just humans. The threat the Upirs posed to this realm was so great that all the other supernaturals agreed to wipe them out. And so they were hunted. Slaughtered. It took over one thousand years before they were completely extinct. Or so we thought. Because that couldn’t be true. Not when one was stalking me.

I turned the page to read more about the Demonski Upir and scoffed. This book was clearly written by someone who feared them and perhaps had been a key player in seeing to the Upir’s demise because they wanted to evoke horror. First, the illustration was wildly inaccurate. Instead of the huge, delicious human body of muscle that Heath had, this drawing was of some mangled, skeletal creature with all its ribs on display. It had horns like Heath’s and large black wings protruding from its back, but it looked more like an enormous flying rat than the beautiful monster that stood before me two nights ago.

Leaning over the old, stained pages, I brushed my finger over the Latin paragraph below it, trying my best to translate.

The Demonski Upir is evil reincarnated.

Woah, okay, a little harsh.

Sent to the human realm as the offspring of Satan, Upirs are the deadliest and most savage kind of supernatural known to exist. Driven by an insatiable thirst for flesh, blood, and fear, Upirs feed on their prey’s organs, especially the heart or liver, to sustain themselves for longer periods. They have heightened senses and reflexes, are extremely strong and fast, can manipulate the mind of their victims, making them feel things that are not there as well as appear in a victim’s dreams to seduce or terrify.

Based on the other night, I’d say that was a pro rather than a con. Wait, dreams? That fucker!

Some can shapeshift, taking on attractive appearances to lure their victims by day, even replicating another’s physical being and scent.

Cough, cough, Harry Gould.

Wing manifestation means they can fly at extreme high-speeds and often target their prey from above before they are aware. They can also materialise from one known place to another. Some have other powers, such as telekinesis, telepathy or shadow weaving. Their lack of morals, empathy and deadly impulsiveness make them savage killers who think only about their next meal. They are solitary creatures, unable to care for anyone but themselves and their uncontrollable hunger.

I leaned back in my chair and frowned at the last line. Okay, so everything else seemed to be pretty accurate to what I had seen from Heathen so far, but that last trait just didn’t sit right with me. It gave the impression that the Upirs were only driven by killing. That they weren’t intelligent or emotional creatures, purely just existing to hunt. Yes, Heathen was clearly an unhinged murderer with a lack of morals, but was it really just to satisfy his bloodthirst? And if that was the case, why hadn’t he killed me? And I swear I saw a flicker of concern on his face when I was hurt by that branch. Maybe it wasn’t empathy but it was… something. Or was it all in my head? Was I just trying to justify my irritating attraction to a monster?

I pulled out my copy of Dorian Gray and flicked to the quote that Heathen had highlighted. ′ You know more than you think you know, just as you know less than you want to know.′ Is that what he was trying to tell me? Not to believe everything that was written about him?

Going back to the history book, I found an entire section with explicit drawings about how to kill a Demonski Upir.

Demonic vampires are troublesome to kill. In their vampire forms, wooden stakes may harm them but due to their demonic abilities, it will not kill them. If the Upir is killed in vampire form, they will resurrect. They can only be killed in their true demonic physical forms with limited methods. The answer lies with the demon’s soul. The soul must be extracted by either physical or spiritual force, effectively destroying its connection to the mortal realm.

My stomach tightened as I stared at the horrendous illustrations on the page. The first was the demon set alight, its whole body in a blaze of flames and its face in agony. I translated the caption underneath.

Hellfire: setting the demon on fire with cursed flames by a witch will send its soul back to Veles.

The second illustration was of a beheaded demon.

Decapitation will cause the soul to leave the body.

The next image was of the demon bound by some ritualistic prison, huddled in the dark, looking extremely sickly and skeletal.

A complex sealing ritual will render the demon powerless, trap it, and starve it to death. The process is slow and may take hundreds of years, but without feeding, the demon will perish and the body must be burned after death.

The final, and perhaps most gruesome, was of a demon ripped apart by what seemed to be a magical force.

Symbolic destruction, by obliterating a physical manifestation of the demon’s soul, will cause intense agony and ultimately lead to an excruciating death.

I sucked in a sharp breath, slamming the book shut, unable to look at the haunting images a moment longer. I felt sick. Which was a foreign concept for me. Horror and gore were my love languages. I could look death in the face over and over and be completely unaffected, but there was just something about the cruelty of those images that really disturbed me. Maybe it was having to imagine that every single Demonski Upir that had ever lived suffered from one of those horrific deaths at some point. It wasn’t simply a case of taking them out by combat or a weapon. Their murders had to be planned methodically. Or maybe it was just the idea that if I captured Heathen and handed him over to the SIA or my parents, that could be his fate.

I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes. I shouldn’t care about what happens to Heathen. After the amount of people he’d murdered over the years, many more than we even knew about, I’m sure, he deserved to be killed.

‘But we don’t know his motives!’ Rue argued. ‘The people he killed may not be innocent. How can we judge until we understand him? Our family kills supernaturals who are a threat to humanity but they still kill. We kill humans from the green list because of their crimes to feed. How do we know Heathen is not killing for similar reasons? The world is not black and white, Ilaria.’

‘I know that. But he killed that human for pleasuring me. He did nothing wrong. How are you going to justify that?’

She paused. ‘An act of love.’

I scoffed, shaking my head at my infatuated counterpart.

‘All I am saying is we cannot condemn him just because he is a Demonski Upir. Haven’t we learned anything from the past? Our own grandpapi was hunted for being the first hybrid of equal powers because others feared him rather than trying to understand him. And look what happened to our mum as a child! People get shit wrong all the fucking time. I’m pissed that an entire breed of vampire was wiped from this realm. That just seems so wrong. I am sure not every demonic vampire deserved their death.’

I knew she was right. I couldn’t put the fate of Heathen into the hands of the SIA or even my family. Not while they believed he posed such a huge threat. Not until I delved deeper and uncovered the truth about who Heathen was and why he was doing what he was doing. He said he wouldn’t hurt me, and I may come to regret it, but I believed him. I may be the only person who could figure this out.

The intercom buzzed. I jumped up from the table and frowned. Strolling over, I pressed the button to find out who the hell would call on Neve’s flat.

“Who is it?”

“Your favourite human.”

I slammed my head against the wall. For fuck’s sake. How did he find me here?

“Ronnie, what are you doing here? And how the hell did you know I was here? Stalking me now?” I couldn’t help the small smile on my lips at the thought of having two stalkers.

He chuckled. “You’d be so lucky. I was at the palace, debriefing my last assignment with Archer and your mom. She said you were here today so I thought I’d stop by. Say hello. It’s been a hot minute.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve both been busy.”

“So, are you going to let me in or do you just get off on making me wait?” he flirted. My eyes darted over to the table full of old, supernatural history books and I chewed on my bottom lip.

“Nah, I’ll come down. I need a coffee.”

“Oh… I thought—” I didn’t let him finish as I cut the intercom and grabbed my bag. I knew what he’d thought. Feck buddy. But I couldn’t have him in here with all this stuff, getting suspicious and asking questions.

Heathen was still going to stay my little secret for now.