Darkest Whispers (Eternal Shadows Book 2) Read online

  Because I still clung to a tiny thread of what used to be reality. “I guess I don’t. But wouldn’t it take a while for hunters to crop up? They’ll have to learn what to do first.” By the line creasing Rhys’s forehead I had just said something very wrong. “Or not.”

  “The Hunters are a very secret underground society. Their visibility fluctuates like our own, but the knowledge they have obtained is passed down through the generations. Hunting is a family occupation.”

  I just stared at him for a long time. This was getting ridiculous. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Kassandra, I could not possibly tell you everything in one day.”

  “Fabulous.” I would have sat there all day and bombarded him with questions, but my head was starting to hurt. However, I had one last thing I needed an answer for. “Something strange just happened.”

  Now he looked worried. "What's that?"

  “I went to check on Sara. There was another vampire there, looking at Sara like she was a steak.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I told her to keep her hands off, and to leave. She did, but . . . she said something strange to me.”

  “What was that?”

  “She looked me all up and down like she was sizing me up, called me ‘your highness’ and actually left when I told her to. She was clearly older than me. Why would she do what I said?”

  Rhys frowned a little and moved his gaze from my face to the floor. “She must have sensed your generation.”

  I threw my hands up. “And what does that mean?”

  He caught my hand in his before it could fall back to the bed and stood, taking me with him. “I’ll show you.” He led me from my room and up the stairs to the third floor library he used as his own private room. Not that he needed much privacy any more.

  There was still no bed. Rhys was old enough that he didn’t sleep much. I didn’t know what he had done before we had gotten together, but now when he did need to sleep, he just slept with me. Just sleeping. Yup. Such a gentleman.

  Occasionally my teenage hormones hated him. Loved him and hated him. All at once.

  Shutting the door he released my hand and moved to the far wall. The bookshelves had been filled by my father and me, but Rhys didn’t even search before pulling an old and worn leather book from the mass of books. I didn’t recognize it, and I had looked at, if not read, almost every book here.

  “What’s that?”

  “A book I brought along for just this occasion. I hid it here when we first arrived.” He set the book on the table at the center of the room and began flipping through the pages. Here and there pages fell loose, or folded papers crinkled within the bound pages. “You can’t ever tell anyone about this. It is the only record we have, and should it fall into the wrong hands it would undo us all.”

  I didn’t dare edge closer. “Way to make a girl nervous.”

  “Unfortunately I am very serious.”

  Afraid to breathe, I crept over to Rhys’s side, hanging back so that I had to look over his shoulder to see the old pages. The leather binding was older than I had originally thought, worn and faded in most places, and looked to have been repaired more than once. The pages were uneven along the edges, and the lettering inside had been scribed with ink that sank into the paper, an elegant calligraphy that had fallen out of common use. The words on most pages were in languages I had never seen before.

  Rhys finally settled on one page. A loose paper, folded at least twice, edged out from between the pages, and he gently pushed it back in, then turned the book so I could see better. A chart covered the two pages, one single word at the top, branching out into nine, then further from there on, almost like . . . a family tree.

  “This is your heritage,” Rhys said, stepping to the side and giving me better access. His fingers glided across the ancient writing, lingering on some names longer than others. I did my best to read them all. Sonya, Aldric, Demitri, Rourke, Tyrus, Osgar, Nadia . . . Julius, Aurelia. Some names, like Lydia, Lucius and Ana Leticia had been crossed out. “Origin is very important in our world. Your sire’s identity means everything. It determines your rank, your power, your future.”

  Beneath Aurelia’s name lines branched out to Cade, Millie and Madge. Above her the name Lucius had an elegant line drawn through it, and above that the name Aldric stood out at the top of the page. Julius’s name had been scribed just to the side of Aldric’s. There was only one name beneath his: Rhys. And below Rhys—my name. Scrawled there in that same graceful script, already looking ancient. My mouth went dry.

  Rhys’s finger brushed along my name, then stopped just to the right of it, pointing out a small number written just above the last ‘a.’ Four. “This number,” he said, “denotes a vampire’s generation.”

  I looked up at him, but found no answers in his expression. With thoughts scrambling around in my head too fast for me to even acknowledge them, I turned my attention back to the book, waiting for the one thing that would make everything make sense. I went back to Aurelia’s line. Millie, Madge and Cade had fives scribed beside their names. Aurelia had a four. A fancy two sat beside Julius, and Rhys had a three. All the names at the top of the page—Sonya, Demitri, Tyrus and Nadia—had twos as well. Branches stemmed out from above all those names, but disappeared off the page rather than to a name. But they did all converge at one single point.

  I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the page. “The General is a second generation vampire?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aurelia is fourth.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re third.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re higher than Aurelia.”

  He only nodded that time.

  I turned my head slowly and looked at him. “I’m a fourth generation?”

  “The same as Aurelia. Yes.”

  “And that makes me . . . what?”

  He tapped the very top of the page where the lines from the second generation vampires converged. “We come from a single source. A source we guard very closely. The Seconds all came directly from that source. From there, they made more and the species grew.”

  I looked back at the page. “But you were the first the General turned. He lived that long without making another vampire?”

  “Julius takes his position very seriously. He wanted to be absolutely sure he had chosen correctly when he finally sired an initiate. The third generation is not to be taken lightly in his eyes.”

  “So he chose you.”

  “Yes. Until then,” he said, moving his finger to Aurelia’s branch, “Aurelia did the turning when they wanted to bring someone into their family. Since she is a Fourth, anyone turned by her becomes a Fifth, and the implications are fewer.”

  “What implications?”

  He moved his finger to one of the names that had been crossed out. A second generation, gone from the flow of time. “The Council is made up of primarily the second generations; the oldest of us. But in some cases the Seconds have been killed, and their Thirds have taken their place.”

  It was then I found Cordoba’s family line. The name above him, had been crossed out. Ana Leticia. I shuddered at the sight of Malachi, Tabitha and others beneath him. “What happened to his sire?”

  “Bartolome killed her.”

  “Why?”

  “Some say it was to seize her power, others say she had gone crazy and he simply put her out of her misery. Either way the only sanctioned killing among us, the only kind that does not need Council approval, is the killing of one’s sire. It’s an old law, based around the thought that if you cannot control your initiates, or if they grow beyond you and resentful of you, then you no longer have the right to power and eternal life.”

  Now it made sense. “Julius has only you. He trusts you implicitly. He knows you won’t do that.”

  “Yes.”

  “And he had you turn me instead of making someone else do it. He’s created the perfect line. He has abso
lutely nothing to worry about.”

  “Exactly.”

  I checked over the branches and names again. “Aurelia killed her sire. Lucius.”

  “Yes. In fact, killing him, when she was barely three hundred years old, was part of what made Julius fall permanently in love with her.”

  “He admires that about her, even though he went to such lengths to secure his own life?”

  “From what I have heard, no one mourned the loss of Lucius.”

  “Oh.”

  “All this brings me to the answer to your question.”

  “My question?” What had I asked? All I could remember were the names and lines on the pages in front of me.

  “Why the vampire left when you told her to.”

  Oh, that question.

  “Look carefully. There are only six of the original nine Seconds left. There are very few thirds. Most were killed after they had created a number of Fourths.” He touched each of the crossed out names. “Most Seconds see the Thirds as threats. Fourths are not as hard to come by, but their numbers are still few in the grand scheme of things. This is the aristocracy, the purest blood of the vampire race. The closer you are to the Source, the more potent your blood, and the more power you will develop. The vampire you met today was probably nothing more than a common turning, so far down the line her generation is unknowable. But yours can be sensed.” He looked at me, his expression grave, like he was about to pass along some dire news. “You are close to the Source, Kassandra. Your vampire blood is pure and valuable. It’s why I have told you to be careful of who you allow to drink your blood. Your blood can give strength to a lower vampire. But it also gives you control. Lower vampires will heed your commands.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Staring at Rhys, I blinked a few times as though that would help me see what he was saying. I closed my mouth, and tried again. “I think my brain just short-circuited.”

  He laughed once and his shoulders relaxed, releasing a tension I hadn’t seen until then. “That’s understandable. I apologize for revealing so much all at once.”

  “It’s okay.” Overstatement. I felt like I had just taken a calculus test, with astrophysics on the side.

  Chapter Two: Masquerade

  I didn’t particularly sleep well after all that. Most of the night I spent staring at the ceiling, finding pictures in the brushstrokes and waves of the white paint, thinking of Sara and vampire family trees, and where I fit in. Rhys didn’t come to bed, which was just as well. I thought better when I was alone.

  The sun rose and I burrowed further into the covers. When I finally dragged myself from bed, heading downstairs to find Warren—my unfortunately necessary human Feeder—or anyone who could take my mind off things, I could hear people milling about all over the house. Which was when I walked straight into the whirlwind that was Millie King.

  “Good morning! Perfect timing. Come on.” She tugged me along, her white and blue drop-waist dress swinging about her hips. She’d never left the 20s behind.

  I let her pull me. “Perfect timing for what?”

  “You have a phone call," she said, her platinum blonde hair bobbing as she led me towards the kitchen. "I was just about to make up some ridiculously fabricated story about why you couldn’t come to the phone, but you’ve saved me the trouble.”

  “What? Who's on the phone?”

  “Your grandmother.”

  Oh goodie.

  She handed me the slim cordless phone. “Don't forget your cover story.” With lightning quick reflexes she leaned in and teasingly kissed me on the cheek. I tried to smack her away, but she was too fast.

  Alone in the extravagant kitchen, the black and white tiled floor gleaming in clean perfection, I stared at the red light on the phone just above the word hold. Fabulous.

  My only remaining grandparent was my father’s mother. Last time I had seen her I had been going through a bit of a “phase” and my hair had been purple in places. That had not sat well with the worldly, sophisticated, and well-bred Emmaline Thomas. I think I had almost given her a heart attack. She spent the remainder of her visit buying me clothes from upscale stores, replacing my cheap costume jewelry with finer things, and having the purple washed out of my hair.

  I pressed the little button, and put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Kassandra? Finally, I’ve been on hold for nearly ten minutes.”

  Her voice wasn’t all warmth and love like most people’s idea of a grandmother. Of course, Emmaline Carter Thomas was anything but ordinary. The Carters were old money; the kind that happily shuffled onto the lifeboats of the Titanic while the rest of the passengers stayed behind to die. Her voice was business, plain and simple.

  Not to say that I didn’t love my grandmother, I did, and I had no doubt of her love for me. It was just that most of the time she reminded me of what had come before her, what had raised her, and what my father had disappointed by joining the military instead of taking over the family business. Grandma had never had the luxury of retirement because of that, but she ran Carter Enterprises Incorporated with an iron fist, and truthfully the company had never been better.

  God, I hoped she didn’t ask me about college, business school, and my blood-right again. Though, had I the mind to, she might actually like the idea of an immortal heir for her company. It would certainly alleviate any fears she might have of it being sold off and out of family hands.

  Oh crap. The General would probably like that idea too, now that it occurred to me. I had some finagling to do in my future.

  I settled onto a stool at the kitchen counter and prepared for what would either be a quick and dirty phone call, or a long and lengthy discussion of her choosing. “I’m sorry, Grandma, I just got out of the shower.”

  “Who was that who answered the phone? I didn’t recognize the voice.”

  “Millie answered the phone, she’s . . . new.” Yeah, new. Lots of things were new.

  “I see. Well, let’s not waste any more time then. How are you? I heard about all that nasty business in June. Terrible, just terrible. Are you quite all right?”

  That was about as warm and fuzzy as she would get. “I’m much better. The recovery center was very nice. Pretty much like a spa.” She would like that.

  “Well, at least there’s that. They took good care of you then?”

  “Very good care, Grandma.”

  “And is it true? Those creatures were responsible?”

  Creatures. God, what would she say if she knew I was one of those creatures? “Yes.”

  “Unforgivable.”

  “Well, actually, it was vampires who saved me, so . . .”

  “Even so. We must distance you from all this nonsense until it is sorted out. I cannot believe your father has not done something about it.”

  “He did. I have . . . bodyguards.” That sounded weird.

  “And are they doing a proper job?”

  “I think so.”

  “We shall see. Where is your father?”

  I hated that question. I couldn’t wait for the day when no one asked me anymore, or at least when I could tell the truth. Thinking about him, about his death, still gave me a sour feeling in my stomach. “He’s not here. He got reassigned back before my graduation. Some covert mission or something like that. I haven’t heard from him in months.”

  She was positively aghast. I could hear it, even over the phone. “Gone? Leaving you alone with those things out there? Unacceptable. We can’t have you on your own with everything that’s been happening lately. I shall send a car for you. You will come live with me.”

  And double crap. “That’s not necessary, Grandma. I’m okay here. I’m not alone.”

  “You should be with family. You are still a child.”

  “Actually, I’m eighteen. An adult. I can live on my own.”

  “In my time, perhaps. Honestly, Kassandra, how many eighteen year olds are fully functional adults nowadays? I know you have your friend
s and whatnot there, but the world is too dangerous a place for a young girl such as yourself to be living on her own. Your father should have sent you to me in the first place.”

  Fabulous. Now how to get out of this net? “That’s really nice of you, Grandma, but like you said, my friends are here, and they’re leaving for college soon. I missed most of the summer, I would really like to spend some time with them before we all go our separate ways. Besides, I’m really very safe.” Safer than you, I wanted to say. I didn’t have to worry about being eaten by a vampire. Unfortunately I couldn’t tell her that.

  “You weren’t safe in June.”

  “Things are different now.”

  “Yes, they are. Those things are everywhere now.”

  Was ‘thing’ a step up or down from ‘creature’? “I know. But Rhys and the others really are very good. Trust me.”

  A soft voice said something in the background—most likely an assistant. My grandmother sighed. "We’ll talk about it more later. For now, let me get to the point of this phone call.”

  This would be fun. “And what’s that, Grandma?”

  Brody chose that moment to walk into the kitchen, all otherworldly human perfection in jeans and a tee. He went straight for the fridge, giving me a wave and a grin. I pointed to the phone, implying the need for some privacy. He started piling cold-cuts on the counter.

  I almost didn’t hear Grandma answer me. Almost. “The annual company gala is quickly approaching and I want you to come.”

  She had never asked me to come. Not since the last time my parents had gone. I had been only seven and didn’t like to sit still. I think she had wanted to show me off to all her friends, but instead I had tripped the ambassador of something-or-other, insulted the president of another rival company, and tipped over the chocolate fountain ruining the handmade designer dress of some woman who I now understood to be one of the last remaining princesses of the world.

  I hadn’t attended the gala again, and it hadn’t been brought up either.

  “You want me to come?”

  “Well, you’re older now. I trust you won’t try skipping along the tabletops again.”