SWNOVELS Chapter Shame
“What happened to Morian?” Alena asked, intrigued despite her sense of foreboding.
“She sent me to find her dog, River, who disappeared into the woods earlier in the morning and didn’t return, which I found odd.
A touch of vampire showed in Rowa’s eyes, her fangs peeking out, but despite the anger sparking in her eyes, she was in control.
“The sun didn’t affect me back then, and I returned before dark. Moira had one rule: I had to be home before sunset. I didn’t find the dog, but River disappeared once before and came back, so I didn’t worry.”
Rowan hesitated, toying with a loose thread on her sleeve.
“Someone had destroyed Morian’s garden and killed or maimed the chickens. The dead ones had no heads, while others ran around squawking in terror with missing wings or fluttered pathetically without their legs. One retained only half its brain but didn’t die.”
Eyes filled with dark emotions, she remained quiet for a while, and her face pale as wax.
“The first thing I saw was River lying near the door, gutted, and it couldn’t have been humans because they tore her head clean off. Judging from the blood on her muzzle, she at least got a bite out of one of them. The sight made me sick, but I suspected the worse was yet to come.”
The dhampir appeared barely aware of them as she allowed her mind to relive the past.
“I took the ax off the block but avoided going into the house. Vampire blood spattered both the handle and blade.
“My senses indicated that no one remained to wait for me, and it seemed wrong for the animals to suffer, these fragile things Moira loved so much. They had names, they came when she called them, and I pitied them.
“The chickens weren’t hard to catch, and I put them out of their misery, one by one, while I tried to not look at River.
“When I finished up, an unnatural quiet filled the forest, and as I looked down on the blood and feathers coating the cutting block, the shock wore off.
“The world stopped moving in this surreal slower than normal way. I knew what I would find in that house as I dropped the ax and ran inside.”
Rowan shuddered.
“They nailed Moira to the wall upon a cross painted with her blood. Her bloodied hands revealed that they made her paint it.”
She almost lost control, forcing down the sob that nearly escaped, and pity lanced Alena’s heart.
“She stared with unseeing eyes out the door, her entrails decorating the surrounding wall as if they were trying to create some macabre sculpture.”
A single tear slipped from her right eye and ran down her cheek.
“The stench made me gag, and then...”
This time, she couldn’t stifle the sob, and it came out like a hiccup, but she didn’t allow herself to stop. Alena moved to speak, but Marcus shook his head.
“Her eyes turned toward me,” she bit out, still devastated after all these years. “She was alive and should have been dead, but she waited for me.”
Rowan lowered her head, and her shoulders shook as she allowed those dark emotions to rip through her, and they were so strong they echoed in Alena’s chest, tearing her between hatred and sorrow, even as her own pity dug at her.
“Morian had only the strength to whisper one word, which made little sense until a while ago.” She glanced at them as if she wanted to gauge their reaction. “Darwin.”
“Father’s greatest rival,” Alena acknowledged.
“To spite Victor, he intended to have me killed to spite Victor, and when I didn’t return from the forest, they got bored and killed Morian instead, or maybe they would have murdered her, anyway. When I returned, they’d already left.”
Many unguarded emotions haunted her eyes, but her intense grief and guilt showed the clearest.
Rowan’s head lowered.
“My anger became overwhelming, and something snapped inside me. I hated Victor for killing my mother and allowing me to live, and I despised him for leaving me with Dahlia. When Morian died, my suspicions led me to believe he caused it,” Rowan lifted her head and looked Alena straight in the eyes.
There was no denying or misunderstanding what she saw.
“You hate us.”
When she found her dead mother, she experienced similar emotions.
“I hated myself the most, especially after...”
Rowan faltered, unable to give voice to what she did.
“The smell got to you, and you fed on her. No year-old fledgling could have resisted,” Alena guessed, and Rowan shuddered. A tiny keening sound escaped her throat like a puppy in pain, and she had the hardest time not going over to the dhampir and hugging her.
Rowan nodded, and when she spoke again, she sounded withdrawn, tired, and gutted.
“I took her down and buried them before setting the house on fire and leaving.”
She shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms, and Marcus unobtrusively added another piece of wood to the fire.
“I never returned there.”
The silence stretched until it became awkward, and Marcus once again left them alone with their thoughts.
“I hated you too,” Alena admitted. “After your mother passed, my father had no interest in mine. She became paranoid, and I think a little crazy.”
Rowan’s head jerked up, her eyes intense as she stared at the darkness at the front of the cave with the attitude of a predator.
“You hated me because I’m a half-breed, and I should never have survived being born. You are not alone in that. You hated how your father facilitated my birth because you could forgive him for breaking your mother’s heart but not for turning out to have feet of clay.”
Rowan slipped her knife from its sheath, her focus on the shadows, but the truth of those words hit Alena like a fist in the gut.
The dhampir rose in one smooth movement, making her way to the front of the cave with steady and soundless intent.
Alena picked up her swords and followed; they were no longer alone.
She recognized something she had noticed before—the stench of decay, dead and rotting things.
A slight scuffling sound in the other cave made them pause, and she handed her spare sword to Rowan.
The light near the entrance still shone too brightly for her to go anywhere near it.
They advanced, and the horses did not react to their familiar presence as they used the animals’ bulk to shield them.
Everything appeared quiet, but for that overpowering scent and the added aroma of human.
Could it be a straggler? Something more sinister?
Rowan moved out of her sight, and a blade scraped rock, followed by a sharp, mighty crack.
Silence gave way to the sound of something being dragged across the stone toward her.
She tensed for combat, but Rowan returned unharmed, towing a dead human by his arm with ease that betrayed her physical strength.
“The other one has gone,” she said.
Nothing more than a ruffian, the man was large and unclean.
Inside the second cave, Rowan dropped him like a sack of grain.
***
Marcus appeared from the back, and his face grew stern when he realized they had gone after an intruder without alerting him.
“Whatever came with him disappeared outside at great speed.”
Rowan walked past him to where they had sat earlier, unsettled by the encounter.
Why send a human, and why did the creature leave it behind?
Markus kneeled beside the body and searched it for clues while Alena returned the swords to their place.
“He has the mark, a tattoo, not a brand.”
Did that make him a minion of some sort?
Her concern over his presence increased.
“Minion,” Alena confirmed her suspicions, and Marcus nodded in agreement.
The scent of blood filled the cave, escaping from the small head wound that had killed the human.
Rowan fought her hunger, and she wasn’t the only one.
Marcus shrugged, motioning for Alena to go first.
***
They needed their strength, and there was no sense in passing up a free meal, despite the rank smell of his person and that other scent that clung to his clothes.
Rowan glanced away and ignored them, her body language betraying that she would not take blood from the dead man.
Alena frowned, somehow growing to understand Rowan was worse than hating her.
Marcus would have spoken, but she shook her head.
***
It was almost dusk before they packed their gear.
Rowan avoided looking at them or the corpse they discarded a few paces away.
“I will check outside,” neither of them moved to stop her.
If she wanted to leave, it was her choice, and they couldn’t do anything about it.
Alena scowled when she realized she would miss Rowan and owed Marcus her gratitude for allowing her to meet her sister.
A sharp, unusual sound alerted her to danger as she pulled the last strap in place.
It had originated near the entrance, and an odd sensation overtook her.
Marcus saw her stiffen, and he followed right behind her when she rushed forward.
Rowan lay motionless at the mouth of the cave, blood pouring from several wounds.
She kneeled in the dirt and picked out tracks from at least three creatures in the powdered sand.
Marcus moved past them with his sword drawn.
“Rowan?” Alena prodded, and the dhampir’s eyes drifted open.
She tried to speak but failed.
This time, they had not heard the creatures approach, and there was no scent.
How was it possible for anything to move with such stealth?
Something protruded from an open wound, and she examined the injury with gentle hands.
The hard object had to be part of a claw, but it wasn’t the only one; several of the gaping holes contained embedded shards.
The hollow, nauseous sensation in her gut grew deeper.
“Poison,” Marcus warned when he returned moments later, and she didn’t have to look at him.
They had seen this before.
Rowan weakened with every passing moment but remained clear-minded, and she fought for her life with the perseverance of someone used to fighting the odds.
Marcus handed her his knife, and without hesitation, she cut her wrist wide open.
She held the wound within Rowan’s reach, but Rowan tried to turn her head away, which prompted something in her to snap.
“Don’t be so damn stubborn and self-righteous,” Alena sniped, and Rowan stared at her as she tried to move, already too weak to lift her head.
Alena’s gut clenched as she watched her sister slip away.