The Return (The Witch Hunter Saga) Page 3

  It was then that he saw a woman looking down at him, her chestnut eyes gleaming in the darkness. It had to be a hallucination. He didn't believe in god and angels, only life and death. She was straddling him as he lay on top of his dead comrades like some macabre devil.

  "Dear Captain," the woman murmured into his ear. "Do you want to live?"

  He could only cough, blood gurgling in his throat. The woman seemed to take this as an acceptance and to his horror; she sliced open her wrist with his bowie knife and forced the open wound over his mouth, flooding it with their mingled blood. He was forced to swallow several times, groaning as pain shot through his chest.

  Then, as far as he could tell, he died. Just as he should have. But, the problem was, he didn't stay that way.

  Zac's eyes snapped open and he found himself gazing up at the clear night sky, thousands of stars sparkling through the trees that sheltered him. Rolling over, he coughed loudly, blood splattering on the ground. He'd been dragged away from the pile of corpses to a clear patch of grass. How the hell was he alive? The gunshot wound was enough to kill him or he should have choked on his own blood at least. Realizing there wasn't any pain, he clutched his chest, ripping his shirt where the bullet had passed through. He was covered in blood, but there was no wound.

  Looking wildly around, he found he was alone except for about eighty-five corpses. Everyone was dead. The Union soldiers who had survived lay haphazardly all around the clearing like they had just been flung there with no regard at all.

  The woman he had hallucinated sat at the base of a tree across the clearing, watching him, and he gasped in surprise as his eyes met hers. For the first time he took in her appearance. She wore a plain green dress that billowed around her waist as she sat, her long curly auburn hair falling around her shoulders, drawing his eye to her cleavage. He looked away, conscious of her modesty.

  He caught the low sound of her laughter, even at this distance. Pulling himself up, he dragged himself backwards, propping his weary frame against a tree. His heart skipped a beat in surprise as the woman was suddenly beside him. He realized she couldn't have possibly closed that distance in a mere second, it was as if she'd appeared out of thin air.

  "Who are you?" he managed to rasp, his throat dry.

  The woman smiled at him, smoothing his hair back from his brow. "I'm someone who's going to take care of you." Her voice was soft and musical, her touch reassuring and very real.

  His brow furrowed, confused, "Ma'am?"

  She laughed again, grasping his arm, "Come, I have a gift for you."

  The woman helped him to his feet, but he felt perfectly fine, like that whole day hadn't happened at all. The dark forest around them seemed clearer, the wind through the leaves louder. He felt better than he had in a long time. It didn't make any sense.

  She led him to the opposite side of the clearing, where a Union soldier sat against a tree, eyes staring vacantly ahead, the rise and fall of his chest the only indication that he was still alive. "I saved this one for you," the woman said, coaxing the man to stand. "He's the one who shot you."

  The soldier was standing rigidly, staring straight through him. Zac waved his hand in front of his eyes, but there was no response. He didn't even blink. His eyes flickered warily to the woman who was now standing behind the man, their heights even. As her eyes changed into two black pools of nothingness she sunk her teeth into the soldiers neck. Zac gasped in horror as she began to drink the mans blood. Pulling back, she smiled wickedly at him, her mouth and chin red with the soldier's life.

  It was then that he caught the smell on the air. Somehow he knew it was the scent of fresh blood. It was intoxicating and his mouth tightened as his teeth began to ache. Before he could stop himself he lunged for the soldier, sinking his teeth into the open wound over his jugular. Knowing he should be repulsed at the notion of drinking another mans blood; he drank like he could never get enough. When there was no more, he let the man drop limply to the ground.

  The woman smiled at him, seemingly pleased with the result. As he wiped his face with the back of his hand, he doubled over as pain ripped through him. Grasping his chest he fell to the ground as his heart raced, gritting his teeth. The pain was worse than the gunshot by far.

  The woman knelt beside him and crooned into his ear, "Don't fear, dear Captain. It will soon pass."

  He gazed into her eyes as the pain took him into unconsciousness and he knew no more.

  When Zac finally woke, he found himself in a bed, the curtains of the simple room drawn tightly over the windows. Rolling onto his side, he dragged himself to his feet. The room seemed to shimmer around him, every little detail sharper, more defined. Rubbing his eyes didn't seem to change anything. The clarity made his head ache something fierce. Getting up, he walked towards the window and opened one side of the curtain, letting daylight flood into the little room. Suddenly, he jerked back into the corner away from the direct sunlight with a yelp. It was hot; so hot it felt as if it had burnt him.

  The bright light seemed to hurt his eyes, his skin tingling. Reaching out tentatively, the warm sunlight fell over his hand. He pulled back instinctively as his flesh seared, holding his hand to himself. Expecting to find a burn there, he stared in shock as his hand healed in front of his eyes. Seared flesh disappeared into smooth, unblemished skin.

  Leaning back against the wall, he caught sight of the woman was sitting in the shadows watching him and he jumped, startled. "What have you done to me?" he grimaced, cowering back into the shadows.

  "I've given you an incredible gift," she said. "You will never age and you will never die."

  "Why can't I tolerate the sunlight?" he hissed.

  The woman only sighed.

  "Answer me!" he yelled at her.

  "You won't be able to go out into the day anymore."

  "What are you?" he stammered. "What did you do to me?"

  "You, dear Captain are a vampire," she stated. "I saved you from death."

  Zac slid down the wall and sunk his head into his knees. He was a vampire? A devil doomed to walk the night for eternity. Was this what he was now? A monster?

  "And what choice did you give me?" He lunged across the room faster than he thought possible, grasping her around the neck, but she pushed him across the room, his shoulder punching a hole in the crude plaster and he fell to his knees. She'd thrown him like he weighed nothing at all.

  "Shh," she whispered in his ear, suddenly at his side, placing her hand over his mouth. "Do not fear, I will teach you. You and I will rule the South. Don't think I didn't see you fight yesterday. You killed nine of them and three of their horses in minutes before they could fell you. We will do many great things together, Captain Degaud."

  "My family," he whispered as she slid her hand away. "I - what..."

  "You cannot go home," she said, a note of warning in her voice. "Your family will not understand. They will fear you."

  He shook his head, but understood that it was futile to argue. The woman smiled again and drew him to his feet, placing her hand on his face.

  "Who are you?" he whispered.

  "I am Victoria."

  In his first weeks as a vampire, Zac lost control too many times to count. His hunger for human blood drove him mad and Victoria didn't try and curb his continued frenzy. She was pleased with him. He was disgusted at the monster he'd become, but didn't know how to stop. It was the one thing she'd neglected to teach him. Restraint.

  Victoria had turned him into a monster, a cold-blooded killer and hunter. A vicious predator intent on one thing and one thing only. Blood.

  She spent many hours teaching him to use his bloodlust to his advantage and use his new skills to hunt and kill. It frustrated him to no end that she could walk in the sunlight, but she would never explain why he would burn and she would not. He tried on many occasions to go outside, but was driven back into the darkness each and every time.

  He thought about his family often. They would have received word of his dea
th weeks ago. Perhaps it was for the best as Victoria kept telling him. The fact the he was now a vampire was a secret he had to keep if he wanted to stay alive. Well, as alive as he could be. The Civil War had ended only days ago and that was like a punch in the gut. He was so close to going home, so close... Instead, he spent his days holed up in darkness and his nights trying not to kill innocent women and children.

  But, there would be no relief for him.

  This night saw them in a different city. Petersburg and the aftermath of the war were far behind them. The hour was late, dawn was close and many residents had already long retired for the evening. Only a few stragglers remained, hurrying home to be with their families or to partake in more unsavory deeds. Victoria slid her arm through his as they walked the darkened street. It wasn't he who lead his lady down the sidewalk. It was all her. He was her puppet to play with. Her toy to shape. She was his guide and teacher in this new life he called death.

  They walked the street of this new city, stalking for prey. Seeking the unfortunate. And always they found humans ripe for the picking. Tonight was no different. Up ahead, a woman was walking the street alone, finely dressed, but reeking of something else. Excess. He felt Victoria's excitement, but didn't mention it.

  "Her," she said. He didn't have to ask what she meant.

  "She's a prostitute."

  "So?"

  He shrugged as he felt her disappear from his side. Sighing deeply, he walked forward, altering his path to meet that of the woman's. As her eyes met his, he let a grin pull at his lips.

  "Evenin' sir," she dipped into a slight curtsey.

  Zac nodded his head, not trusting himself to speak.

  "Oh?" she said. "Not fond of talking are we?"

  He shook his head, struggling with what Victoria was forcing him to do.

  The woman gave him a knowing look. "Sir, the sun is set to rise within the hour. Come with me, I only have a short while. You," she smiled suggestively, "you I will do for free."

  He didn't protest when she took his arm, leading him from the street into the darkness of an alley, their footsteps echoing between the close walls. The woman looked back over her shoulder and opened a door set into the brickwork, revealing a flight of stairs.

  Zac glanced into the shadows where his vampire eyes saw Victoria lingering, watching him with an air of approval.

  "Do it," he heard her whisper and he turned, following the woman up the stairs.

  Once on the landing, the room opened out into a small, but lavishly furnished bedroom. Looking around he saw no other entrances, only a window on the wall behind him, the drapes closed tightly. As she lit a lamp on the dresser, he idly wondered how many men she brought here and if she'd been happy.

  "Now," the woman purred, standing before him. "Where were we?"

  As she reached behind herself and began to unlace her corset, he could only see the pulsing vein in her neck. His eyes came up to meet hers as he felt the slow burn in his throat. Just the thought of her blood made him hungry and the more he dwelt on it, the more it seared.

  Then, it was as if someone else was controlling his movements, awakening the predator inside. Stepping forward, he reached around and grasped the woman's wrists and pulled her hard against him, burying his head into the crook of her neck.

  "Oh," she exclaimed. "That's more like it."

  He breathed deeply, inhaling the promising scent of blood, his lips brushing against her skin. As his vision began to blur into darkness, he knew it was too late. He wouldn't be able to stop this now. He didn't want to.

  He began to kiss her skin softly, her breath hitching as his hands lightly traced the outline of her arms, then burying into her hair. Gently tugging her head to the side, his teeth began to ache and he could draw it out no longer. Biting down into her jugular, he tore at her flesh viciously, her blood beginning to pour from the open wound.

  The woman let out a shriek of horror, her frantic sobs grating on his nerves. He clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the annoying sounds as he pulled the life from her in heaving gulps, the coppery tang of her blood overwhelming his senses until there was nothing else. When she began to still, legs crumbling beneath her, he gently lowered her to the ground, cradling her body as he drunk the last drops, her heart slowing and finally stopping. It was only then he pulled away and looked at the corpse he now held with black eyes and a bloodstained mouth.

  Monster.

  Zac was suddenly aware that Victoria was standing over him. Looking up, she shook her head, a sly smile playing at her lips.

  He'd killed before, but this time it was different. This time there was no going back. He'd killed and he liked it.

  "Let her go, Zachary," she murmured and he looked at the woman in his arms with sudden distaste. He stood sharply, dropping her lifeless body onto the floor. There was blood everywhere.

  "What have you done to me?" he whispered in horror as his eyes began to clear.

  "I've done nothing but help you to survive," she said.

  "You've done nothing but make me kill."

  Victoria snarled and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him towards the window, flinging the curtains open wide. Pushing him into the dawn, his skin began to sear and he cried out at the sudden pain.

  "Stop it," he sobbed, trying to control himself. If she held him there for much longer...

  "You have to understand Zachary," she hissed into his ear. "I'm the one with the power here."

  "Please."

  Victoria hauled him into the shadows and he fell to his knees. The pungent smell of burnt flesh began to dissipate as his skin healed.

  "This is what you are now," she said, looking down at him with disdain. "There's no going back. It would be such a waste if I had to let you go."

  His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "You wouldn't."

  "Oh, my dear. I would in a heartbeat."

  Zac knew she would. She would kill him in an instant if he was no longer useful, if he could no longer serve his purpose.

  Victoria was every inch the monster she had created in her own image. The monster she'd turned him into.

  There would be no going back. Ever.

  The one thing Victoria wouldn't give Zac were answers.

  She was extremely secretive about her reasons for turning him and would dodge his questions, sometimes slapping him across the face, splitting his lip against his teeth. She would tell him that they would be together for eternity, that they were going to do great things. What those things were didn't reveal themselves to him until weeks later, when they travelled to Louisiana.

  Victoria found them a house in New Orleans, where she left him for days at a time, seemingly off on some undisclosed business. All in good time, she would say when he enquired. He didn't dare leave the house at night for fear he would be recognized, having spent much time here when he first enlisted.

  Zac became increasingly agitated at his confinement and Victoria finally agreed to keep him company. They were in the parlor that night when she received a guest. A tall, well built man, dressed as if he'd come to a dinner party in a fine waist coat and jacket, stood in the doorway. Victoria bade him stay as she took their guest to the dining room.

  He knew the man was a vampire. He wasn't trying to hide it at all. Casting his hearing out, he heard the door close behind them. Stepping out into the hallway, he moved silently down towards the dining room and hesitated. The voices of the two vampires murmured on the other side. They hadn't noticed his approach. Leaning his back against the wall he listened.

  "When he is ready, he will be unstoppable," Victoria was saying. "He is still too new, too prone to the rage."

  "There is another who has their sights on the South, Victoria," the man replied, his voice urgent.

  "I know full well what we're up against. Zachary will bend to my will one way or another and he will be the cold blooded killer I am shaping him to be," she said with pride. "You should see him, Alistair. Even when he looses control, he's beautiful t
o watch."

  "If you're right, then together we will be forever safe from them," the man named Alistair replied.

  "That is the goal. After I let her escape in Paris," she sighed. "If we win the South we will have her. I know she's here."

  "I hope you are right, Victoria. For all our sakes."

  Finally understanding, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. Victoria had turned him to help her win the South for her own gain. He had been a Captain, who'd commanded respect; a respect that drove thirty-five men to their deaths unquestioned. Fighting and killing was second nature to him as a human. As a vampire, he would be capable of much greater horror. Victoria was using him.

  When she finally came back to the parlor, closing the door behind her, she saw the hatred in Zac's eyes. Sitting beside him, she forced his face towards hers. "What is it, my dear?" she asked.

  He stood abruptly; wrenching himself free, pacing over to the fireplace, "Tell me the truth, Victoria."

  "I have always been truthful to you," she smiled, standing.

  "You're a masterful liar," he scoffed. "Tell me the truth." When she didn't reply straight away he spat, "You're training me to do your bidding."

  "Not mine, Zachary. Ours."

  He shook his head in disbelief, "I never wanted this!"

  "Dear, Zachary," she caressed his cheek, attempting to calm him. "You will kill for us. It's the only thing you're good at."

  He let her go, his expression falling into resentment. Victoria stepped into him, resting her head against his chest, her arms circling his waist.