Freak Show (Alexa O'Brien, Huntress #7)(70)

I stared at him in stunned silence. Where was the scorned sire I’d been expecting? The one who would tear a strip out of me for killing a vampire he had made.

“Please,” he continued. His voice was low and rough, as if he’d swallowed gravel. “Do not be afraid. I mean you no harm. I am quite delighted to meet Arys’s wolf. The underworld speaks of you often. You are known in many parts of the world.” That was news to me. Bad news potentially. Already I saw what Arys meant about Hurst’s tendency to know things others did not.

“I’m honored to be here, really. Just a little nervous. I’m sure you understand.” I sipped the latte, needing a way to keep my hands busy. It was hot, obviously. Burnt taste buds were nobody’s friend, but I sucked it up and drank it anyway.

“I’m afraid I don’t. You have no need to fear me, or anyone else, for that matter. You are a rare breed. The only one of your kind.”

“What does that mean?” I was afraid to ask questions, afraid of the answers.

Hurst studied me, and I tried desperately to keep from squirming under the massive weight of his stare. “No Hounds have walked in the world of the undead. None until you. I understand it must be incredibly difficult for you. Do you have any questions?”

I had many. Where to begin? I started with perhaps the most obvious, the one that nagged me. “Do you hate me for killing Harley?”

He laughed, a gruff sound I’d equate to that of a cement mixer. His gravelly voice was gentle, though, when he replied, “Not at all. It is very easy for the undead to forget that they are not truly immortal. They too can die. Harlan made his own choices. As did you. I feel only sadness that he learned so little in his time.”

Huh? Well that was interesting. What made it so puzzling was the way vampires like Jenner carried on about it as if I’d committed some great cardinal sin. Sure Harley was his maker but if Harley’s own sire saw it for what it was, why couldn’t the others?

“The vampires Harley sired don’t seem to feel that way.”

“They are immature, self-centered in their view of the world. Pay no mind to them.” Hurst’s eyes twinkled with age-old wisdom and knowledge of things I would never know. His aged appearance made it easy to forget he was vampire. “They all belong to you though they do not yet know that. In time you will all see.”

Whoa. What? His words brought to mind an incident from a year or so ago. A vampire had attacked me, swearing he’d rather die than bow down to me. A shudder racked me at the memory.

I felt calm in Hurst’s company. The vampire essence within me knew him. It gave me a strange but welcome reassurance.

“Arys thinks there is a particular reason you wanted to see me,” I hedged, hoping he’d take it from there.

Hurst gazed into the darkness lurking at the edge of the candlelight. Shelves of books lined every wall in the room, ceiling to floor. It was the most impressive library I’d ever seen.

“I have read every book in here. And a great many more as well. There is no greater power in this world than that of knowledge. Never forget that, Alexa.”

A cool breeze picked up, blowing my hair around my face. The shadows danced beyond the light, writhing and twisting into odd shapes. A book floated through the room, coming to settle between us in the center of the table. The front cover was nothing more than a mysterious symbol. It might have been a letter from an ancient language or a mark of some form of magic. Whatever it was, it began to glow.

“It knows you,” Hurst said, causing my stomach to drop. “It’s very old. A book of long buried secrets, it has been passed through only the hands of those who can read it.”

Gently, as if the pages might crumble at his touch, Hurst opened the book. It was written in an old language, one I did not recognize. I gripped my latte tight, afraid to let it go for fear it would spill.

“What does it say about me?” Oddly enough, the apprehension I’d been feeling was gone in the presence of the book. No longer did I fear the answer. How strange.

“It says many things about many beings. A Hound of God bound to the darkness is indeed one of them. It comes with a warning for you. Beware the angel with black wings.”

I pursed my lips, frowning at the book. It didn’t take a magic book to make me aware of the dangers of demons. I mean, hello, demons.

“I assume that means Shya.” I watched the book closely, wishing I could read it for myself.

“There is danger in assumption.” Hurst’s wrinkled hands caressed the pages affectionately. “What is it that you fear most?”

I had no response to that. I feared many things. Death at Arys’s hand. Failing to carry out the purpose we were created for. The loss of myself, my wolf.

“You have all that you need,” he continued. The candle flame flickered in his eyes, creating an eerie but intriguing reflection. “To save your wolf.”

I did a double take, blinking rapidly as if that would help me to hear his words again. “What do you mean?”

“It is already within your possession. It calls to you, a piece of the earth. A gift from a friend.”

Hope soared, taking flight as I pieced it together. “Lena’s amulet. Yes, I have it. What does it do?”

After Lena’s death, her daughter Brogan had given me the amulet. It had called to my wolf, vibrating with a joyful, earthy energy. Not knowing what to do with it, I had kept it safe, stored away in my house.