Darkness Comes This Way Part 4

When they were safely back inside the Compound's garage, Draven parked but didn't move from his seat. Zarah looked over at him in confusion.

"Aren't you getting out?" She had her hand on the door handle, staring at his profile in the dim lights of the car's interior. His hair had fallen from its normally neat ponytail, and hung around his face. Oddly, she found herself admiring him. His height took a lot of the s.p.a.ce in the small sports car. She looked at his hands in his lap-not very soft-looking, but worked. They were probably a little rough. Her thoughts began to take some weird turns and she had to quickly shake them, mentally slapping herself.

"Not yet. Sit here with me for a while. It's still early anyway." He turned the radio on and switched to a loud, heavy rock station. She frowned briefly, but let her hand fall from the door and leaned back into the seat again.

"We could have been killed out there, Zarah." Draven said in a low, calm tone after a long silence when the song ended and the station went to commercials. She sighed, knowing that she should have expected the conversation to come up.

"And you could have just left me there with Thomas. You hate me so much. You're determined that I'm still a Rogue in disguise. This doesn't have to be your mission." She was starting to ramble, looking everywhere except at him.

"I lied."

Zarah stopped talking, turning to face him as he said those two small words. His cerulean eyes glowed at her in sorrow through the dark interior of the car. Her breath left her momentarily. She grew confused.

"Lied about what?" Her words were slow; her mouth became dry.

"Believing you're still Rogue. I just give you a hard time about that. I'm not going to sit here and say that I don't think you're tainted, though. I'd never feed from you. However, I saw for myself those months ago you fight against the urges of bloodl.u.s.t."

As he explained, she could only stare at him in shock with a slacked jaw.

"You saw?"

"Those humans before you were picked up? You were weeping...you were trying to revive one..." he replied.

"You kept screaming for help."

The memory haunted her. It was a nightmare she had often.

Blood was splashed upon the walls and stained the white carpets as the color of her destruction stood out around her and three bodies lay at her feet. Yet, even through the strong metallic odor of her food source that her raging bloodl.u.s.t had overpowered her for, she could faintly pick up the scents of jasmine and lilies...and just before she collapsed to the white-scarlet floors in tears, she had seen the beautiful array of flowers. They had been neatly arranged in vases across the room, sitting on the table, but even those beautiful white buds were stained with spots of the crimson fluid that she had murdered for...

"No..." It was a soft whisper at first that had escaped her lips, something that had sounded so foreign and distant. That couldn't possibly have been her voice? There was a bright flash of lavender light momentarily. It blinded her, causing her to fall. She felt the blood on her hands, smelled it in her hair. Bile rose into her throat and she spilled the contents of her stomach onto the floor beside one of the mangled bodies. How was that possible? When was the last time she had vomited? Perhaps as a child, but shockingly, there she was for the first time in years, retching until her insides cramped.

"No." A little louder the second time, and she found it was her. She was staring at her destruction, the awful crime she'd committed. She needed help. Could someone help her? What had she done?

"NO!"

"Help!"

The floor was sticky and cold. But she lay there, screaming and crying, hitting that dead human man over and over.

And just as Draven had mentioned, she'd cried for help, screaming until her voice was raw as she also tried to administer CPR on one of the humans.

Zarah knew now that it wouldn't have worked, not after her destruction. She had drained them. But she had been so emotionally disturbed, she didn't know. Her mind had been foggy through all of those moments. Pain had ripped through her chest and head. Her cries drowned the silent night, and then the door of that apartment burst open.

"How do you know about that?" she asked barely above a whisper.

"Nathanial was the only one that came to me."

"No, he wasn't. I was there for 'just-in-case' purposes. When it was determined that you weren't a threat, you were sedated, and I carried you out," Draven said as her eyes widened. He smirked.

"No lie."

His body had turned toward hers, and in the small s.p.a.ce, it felt too intimate. She began to feel a little uncomfortable, backing up against the door as far as she could.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" She was suspicious, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, I'm trying to tell you that I can't abandon you during this mission, or any mission for that matter. That night, once we were sure you were stable, Nathanial made me do something," he began.

Zarah was nervous, her hands shook as they gripped the edge of the seat tightly and she stared over at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"He made me seal a Bonding Pact with you." His answer was nonchalant, emotionless.

Zarah leapt from her seat and left the car, running into the Compound without looking back. She couldn't hear any more, couldn't respond to that. The look on her face before her departure said more than enough. She was beyond angry. She was hurt. Draven leaned forward and banged his head into the steering wheel out of frustration. He didn't try to stop her.

As he climbed out of his car, he couldn't help but wonder if he had done the right thing or not by telling her that information. Before getting into the elevator to go down to the main level, he'd determined that he had.

Seven.

Zarah couldn't believe it.

A Bonding Pact? She didn't need a d.a.m.n Bonding Pact, much less one with Draven. Those things were lethal. They killed. There was too much attachment involved; it was a sacred blood bond usually done between mates. And how could Nathanial talk him into doing that in the first place? In order for one to be made, he had to have signed some unbreakable contracts and fed her from his vein...but she didn't remember taking from Draven. Then again, the night she had come out of her Rogue status, she was out of it-sedated and blanked out for several days. She didn't remember much of anything after having the breakdown in the humans' home, except waking up in the hospital wing of the Compound, newly awakened and feeling what she'd guess she'd call normal again.

So, was that why Draven had been around her so much, constantly aggravating and p.i.s.sing her off since her return? Because the Bonding Pact made it hard for him to keep too far away from her and that made Draven angry? Why hadn't Nathanial told her? And was that why he'd paired them up, despite knowing that they were the Compound's finest and it would be a great loss to the team should something happen to them?

Question after question raced through Zarah's mind as she continued pacing. She was back in her room at the Compound, having raced off from the parking garage after receiving the news. Tears flowed, warming her cheeks. Reaching up to swipe them away, she scowled over the weakness of her emotions.

Betrayed.

She felt betrayed by them all.

A soft knock sounded at her door. She could smell him on the other side.

Her own emotions were traitors as a mixture of overwhelming desire and hatred filled her at the same time. She let out an angry huff and wiped at more tears. His scent smelled of rich, dark masculine spices mingling with light hints of cherry. The aromas each individual carried were unique to themselves and used as a hunting maneuver when preying on humans. Guardians no longer hunted humans and hadn't since blood banks began.

"Go away, Draven." She started shedding her jacket and weapons, refusing to open the door.

"I don't want to talk to you."

"I figured that. I was just making sure that you were here."

Zarah stormed across the room and swung the door open to meet his face, not caring that he was going to see the tear tracks on her cheeks.

"You just lied again. You knew I was here, a.s.shole. Or did you already forget that you just told me that you have a Bonding Pact with me?" Her fangs caught in the light as she bared her teeth at him. With his confession, she knew he could find her anywhere. There was a blood-bond connection between them.

Draven clenched his jaw and stared down at her darkly.

"I don't like it any more than you do, b.i.t.c.h. But I did my job; it's what I had to do and you could at least show some appreciation that I even told you. Nathanial wanted to keep it from you indefinitely."

She shook her head in disbelief.

"Why?" she asked.

"To keep you safe. But now, whether you know or not, you're not safe. So I figured I should tell you. It was your right to know anyway."

As he started to turn and walk away from her, she stepped into the hallway and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"No. Why did you do it? Why did you let Nathanial talk you into the Bonding Pact?" she asked again with a frown.

"In my state of mind, you could have been turned Rogue that night."

"I didn't let your teeth touch my skin," he started, cutting her off.

"And I was the only one around. He wanted a Guardian to have a Bonding Pact with you because you were curing. It was the miracle of our race; it was a big deal at the time and he kept blabbering about you being special just like he thought you were. I didn't understand. He didn't get into details. I couldn't let him down, so I agreed, and did my job."

With that final explanation, he brushed her hand from his arm and stalked away to his room. She heard his bedroom door slam down the hallway from her own before going back into hers.

She looked briefly around her quiet room before grabbing her pistol and walking out again. This wasn't the time for crochet or art or reading.

"Hey, Zarah, are you and Draven getting along alright?" She heard Nathanial ask as he came up beside her. She continued down the long, winding hallway of the Compound, her boots echoing on the polished tile, the gun still gripped by her right hand. Her boss frowned as he glanced down to see it there instead of in its holster. There was a strict Compound policy to keep weapons holstered in the halls or off-duty. She usually ignored the policies and rules, and Nathanial never seemed to reprimand her for it.

She nodded and glimpsed at him through the corner of her eyes. He had no idea that she knew anything about the Bonding Pact, and for a short moment, the rage flared again in the pit of her stomach that he'd kept such a secret. Still, she remained quiet and kept walking.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" He sounded agitated, his steps on the rushed side as he tried to keep up with her quickening pace. She wasn't in the mood to be near him, yet he continued following.

"The shooting range," she said, making a turn and heading toward a set of large, steel double doors.

"I need to let off some steam and shoot something."

Nathanial stuttered, trying to speak. She ignored him, and pushed her way into the gym. She closed the doors, leaving him in the hallway fl.u.s.tered and speechless at her att.i.tude. Sure, she'd have to hear a lecture later, but she wasn't going to concern herself about it then. On the other side of the large room was a heavy door that led to the shooting range. To get there, she'd have to cross the work-out area, and that included a few other residents who were in there at the time doing their training. The gym consisted of various weight benches, punching bags, targets for knife throwing, balance beams, and ugly bright blue wrestling mats. Walking briskly, she crossed the room and headed for the small, closed-in shooting range. From the tiny door window, she saw it was empty and let out silent breath of relief.

A few Guardians were working out but, as always, they ignored her. She could still feel their stares when she pa.s.sed. One let out a fake cough.

After stepping inside, she headed for one of the small cubicles while loading her gun with lead bullets. When they practiced there was no need to use their good silver bullets. Those were made by a resident, and always limited. The practice ammunition could be store bought. Placing the blue headphones over her ears, she fired single rounds at the paper targets in front of her. The tension coursing through her body eased. Each shot relaxed her more. Her shoulders drifted down, her legs took a wider stance. The cold metal of her weapon comforted her. She let her hair down from its ponytail, the dark auburn tresses falling to her waist, and pulled up the corners of her mouth into a smile as she took a few more deep breaths and a few more shots-hitting her marks perfectly.

After replacing the targets three times, she grew tired and decided to leave. The practice helped clear her mind and ease the tension. Holstering the gun, Zarah walked slowly and relaxed back to her room. Nathanial was nowhere to be seen.

Zarah continued to calm her nerves later by stepping into the shower. The hot steam hit her skin and she took long, deep breaths as she stood still, hanging her head under the spraying water, and losing sense of time. She only stepped out when it started to grow cold, causing little goose b.u.mps to appear on her slender arms as she turned the nozzle off, and reached for her towel around the white vinyl curtain.

Putting on a long, black silk nightgown with a matching robe, she brushed her hair while using the dryer. She opened a bottle of blood as she stepped into her small kitchen. The sweet, metallic flavor danced merrily over her tongue and down her throat, reminding her of how thirsty she'd been. Gulping down the drink, she emptied the bottle. Gasping in satisfaction, she gripped the countertop to steady herself. She wiped her mouth with a towel before rinsing out the bottle. Her gaze was momentarily hypnotized by the swirling mixture of blood and water in her sink. She stood, unblinking, watching until the water ran clear. Cold blood stolen from the humans' banks wasn't as filling as a warm-blooded donor, but this was the way it had to be. It was safe. It kept them from turning rabid.

Rogues came to be centuries ago through the means of draining humans, most times accidentally, and the constant desire for more. They went wild with bloodl.u.s.t after a draining. Later, during the Plague, they evolved with a poison found in their saliva that pa.s.sed along to others when bitten. Rabid vampires became weapons in themselves. One bite, human or vampire, and the Rogue virus took over in a matter of hours. Some believe it was because the Rogues fed on Plague-diseased victims that created the poison they now carry. Now they're an infestation themselves.

Zarah stared down at the empty bottle and sighed. Satisfied, but not full. That was all she would ever be. She discarded the bottle, disgusted with herself.

A while later when she climbed in bed, her phone rang.

"h.e.l.lo?" she said quietly as she lay in the dark. She hadn't bothered checking her Caller I.D. to see who it was.

"Well, h.e.l.lo, little sister."

Zarah sat up when she heard Thomas' voice, pulling her phone briefly away from her ear to see that the number he was calling from was private.

"Thomas? Are you okay?" The silence had been awkward, filled by a mild static noise. She still didn't know exactly how to speak to him.

"I'm fine. I told you not to worry about me. But somehow I knew you still would anyway and that's why I called. Get some rest. I'll see you soon," he said, hanging up before she could respond.

Laying back down, it took her awhile before she could fall asleep as so many different thoughts continued to race through her mind.

Eight.

That evening, she didn't feel up to doing much for the first time in years. She just wanted to stay in bed and not have to face anyone. As nice as it sounded, with the comfort of her thick covers and fluffy pillows surrounding her, she knew she couldn't. Especially when a loud knock sounded at her door, causing her to groan in annoyance. She threw a few of the decorative pillows at the door. The black velvet flew end over end and gold ta.s.sels spun around each other, before making soft thuds and landing on the floor. She heard his amused laughter on the other side before she was up. She smelled him, noting that his scent seemed even better than he has before. It caused her to let out a frustrated growl as she kicked off the covers.

Rising out of bed, she yanked her robe from a chair and slipped it on before walking over to open the door. The tossed pillows were still in a sad pile nearby.

"That's odd. Normally you're at least dressed by now," Draven said as he eyed her appearance. She certainly had that fresh just-climbed-out-of-the-bed look going, her fangs more elongated than usual because she needed another drink, and her hair was in a disarray. But for the first time, he was seeing the softer side of her. The side outside of the heavy combat boots, ripped jeans, and fighting gear while she stood in front of him wearing a long, silk robe and barefoot with her hair down. He couldn't help but to find it...lovely, actually. His own thoughts shocked him.

"So, are you going to stand there and mock me all night, or you going to come in and wait while I get ready?" she asked, cutting in through his thoughts. Her nose scrunched up as she frowned. If she'd been human, they would say she wasn't a morning person. She was always grouchy when first waking up. Most particularly, she'd been in a foul mood with him in general.

"I'll be in the Lounge. Just come get me when you're done." He forced a friendly smile before turning to walk away. She nodded and closed the door, happy that he hadn't come in after all. She would have hated trying to get dressed in her small bathroom.

When she was ready, she headed to the Lounge to find Draven sitting in one of the plush recliners casually reading a human newspaper. He looked up when she approached, and motioned for her to sit in the chair beside his. She shook her head and began impatiently tapping her foot.

"No time to sit and read a silly paper. We're already running late for duty. Let's just go." She started to head out without bothering to wait for him to follow. Draven stood and tossed the paper on a nearby table.

"Zarah, are you okay? Look, I'm sorry about-" he started while they were on their way out to his car. She raised a hand to stop him in mid-sentence.

"I don't want to discuss it, Draven."

"Zarah!"

They both heard a female shout as they reached the car, causing them to stop and turn to face the source of the voice. It was Ash, one of the Compound staff members, running to catch up.

"What's up?" Zarah asked in confusion.

"I'm sorry, but I needed to give you a message before you left. Nathanial requests your presence in his office for a meeting after your s.h.i.+ft is over," she said.