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“Remind me why you have night stalkers in your party," I grumble, a chill spreading throughout me.
"Because they can subdue the dark users better than anyone. Not to mention, they're some of the strongest beings in existence. Why exactly are the two of you mortal enemies? I'
ve never understood it."
I sigh out as all the stories my mother told me when I was growing up suddenly rattle around in my mind.
"They have the ability to hold us down, making our powers worthless. In the old days, they lived solely off our blood and essence. Draining a witch kills most blood-thirsters, but to a night stalker, we're worth fifty humans."
"How do you build up resentment over something that happened centuries ago when you're so young?" he chuckles out.
My lips tighten, and then I pull my shirt down to reveal a spot along my collarbone.
"What?" he says with a devious smirk. "Finally willing to let me show you what an animal I really can be?"
Though his witty little pun is humorous, I'm not exactly feeling the urge to laugh. With a heavy sigh, I wave my hand over the spot to reveal the blemish I masked long ago.
The red, savage scar reveals itself, and his eyes widen in disbelief.
"Bloody hell. When did that happen?" he gushes while running his finger along the mark.
I pull my hand back over it, making the skin pull smooth, and the scar vanishes once more. I let my collar pop back into place and turn to face him.
"It happened when I was seventeen. One day I went for a walk, but a night stalker had been tracking me, waiting for me to slip up and step out of the protective circle I was living in at the time - my overprotective mother's circle around our farmhouse coven.
"Obviously I didn't expect him, and he pinned me down, using his powers of subduing. My blood became his meal, and little by little, I felt my life slipping away. He fell between my legs, lifted my skirt, and all I could do was lie there, stunned by his hypnotism. I thought… For a minute, I worried he was going to do more than just feast on me, but he didn't get the chance.
"After he dug his fangs in the second time, my mother showed up. He got away, but it's doubtful he lived, considering the wounds he sustained. I spent three days in a healing room, barely surviving the attack after he drained me almost dry within minutes.
"So don't say it's something that happened centuries ago. Not everything has changed. You know as well as I do, night stalkers still love a good witch meal, they just clean up better than they used to."
"I thought that attack was just the rumor your father started in order for your mother and you to live freely. And I thought you were like eight or nine when it happened."
"No. I was ten the first time I was attacked, and that's when they told everyone Airis Devall had died." I pause, motioning to the other side of my neck. "It didn't scar like the last one. That night stalker's venom was weaker, meaning a smaller scar, and he met my father's wrath fairly quickly. He was a fool to even come into Drackus's home."
He lets out a heavy, harsh breath, and then his fingertips trail along my collarbone as he pulls my shirt back down. My breath hitches as his lips find the hidden scar, and he drags them across it on his way up to my neck.
I start to push him away, but he pulls back on his own.
"Just so you know, there's not a night stalker here brave enough to touch you with me around. They know what I'd do to them, and most of them remember how very ruthless I once was. You're safe."
I would smile if that didn't sound so morbid and a little… scary. Too bad a changer is nowhere nearly as strong as a night stalker. I would feel comforted if I knew he really could take on a night stalker as old and seasoned as Rain.
I lean into him, my eyes growing heavy, and then I shake my head.
"I'm stronger now. You haven't even seen all I can do because I'm scared I'll end up like my father. I hold back because I have to; not because I can't do more. I almost dread my immortality."
"Why?" he muses, his fingers strumming through my hair.
"Because I'll be even stronger. That's the real reason I don't like using magic. I'm afraid I won't know when I've gone too far… just like him."
He nods, his hand sliding down my back now, and it almost feels like he's trying to comfort me. In my wildest dreams, I never pictured a changer comforting me. Sadly enough, he's the closest thing I have to a friend right now, and I really need a friend.
"There are few things left in the world that scare me. I've seen hell try to rise above ground, but I lived through it. Your dad… honestly, he scares the shit out of me." Well, the comfort is gone. "But it's not because he's powerful; it's because he has no reservations about using his power against anyone who crosses him. The council may have condemned him to the lost lands, but you know as well as I do he can leave at any time - and does.
"He stays there most of the time though, never using his magic outside the fields, but only because he doesn't want to make things harder on your mother. He doesn't ever want her punished for anything he does, and they would use her against him."
"Don't make it sound as though he truly cares. The reason he stays put is because the only time the light and dark agree is when it comes to keeping him away. He's powerful -deadly powerful - but he's not invincible. I've seen it. I've seen him hurt. I was young, but I remember what happened."
