The Rede Breaker

Chapter 8: Infamous Ambrose

I blink to clear away the fog.

I am sitting by a roaring fire in a decadent room. The room is filled with furniture from Antiquity. Ambrose always told me that the decorator was long dead.

My fingers dance across the surface of the russet chesterfield as a man uses an iron poker to stoke the fire at the fireplace. An antique clock chimes three times behind us as the man looks up from the fire.

My heart races as Ambrose's eyes meet mine. His luminescent green eyes are the brightest I have ever seen them. His biracial heritage is on full display as his sandy beige skin glows faintly against the fire. His hand runs across his shaved head before he scratches the scruff on his face.

"You worry too much. We can handle a few witches."

The darkness in his voice is triggering. It reminds me of what lies beneath his cool demeanor.

"You don't know that. What you did is wrong."

My lips move on their own. I have no control. How could I when it's already happened?

"What we did." He says.

I stand to protest but I cannot. Our shared history replays in my mind. Our defiance of the Council in our childish powerplays to overtake vampire spaces is something I try to forget. It put me at odd with most vampires and a great deal of witches.

The witches feel my interference in vampire affairs threatens the small semblance of peace between the two factions have brokered.

His words find me how he intends. My thoughts and fears are clearer to me now. This is the moment I first saw him for who he is.

This is the moment the monster is on full display.

I glance at the door, debating on leaving him.

Ambrose scoffs as he would at a child's silly notion. "You can leave, but you know I'll follow you."

The inflection in his words is dangerous. It is not meant in an endearing way. He is threatening me with his presence, and he means what he says. He has attached himself to me like any other barnacle.

No less vigilant than a shadow.

The front door slams. We are both caught off guard as no one has been allowed inside. The sound of heels against the marble floor of the foyer informs me that someone is heading towards us.

Two vampires fly by the door as a woman, Ria, enters the room.

Ria, with fiery red hair, wastes no time in taking me off my feet.

I watch as her hand curls into a fist. Ambrose sinks to his knees. Blood runs from every orifice as he cries out in pain. A second passes of excruciating thought. I would rather not stand behind either.

The sound of Ambrose's crying out pulls at a special place within my heart as I reach my feet. I raise my hand, pushing Ria back against the wall with my powers.

There is fire in Ria's eyes as she peels herself from the wall. "Parker, stay out of this! You didn't know what he was planning but if you interfere...This monster must die!"

"This isn't the way, Ria."

"He killed Briana, Parker! He killed all of them! I won't stop until he is ashes on the ground."

Ria curls her fingers again, causing Ambrose to yell out. I reach out to her again, pushing her hand away. Ria hurls a curse at me that knocks me over the chesterfield.

The pain is agonizing. I crawl to my feet using the chesterfield to see her standing over Ambrose with a large wooden stake. Almost on instinct, I throw my hand forward. Fire shoots from the fireplace and knocks Ria backwards.

Ambrose uses the opportunity to appear behind Ria. He grabs her by the neck with ease. He is about to twist her neck like a top.

I reach out and hold him in place.

"What are you doing?" Ambrose barks.

His grip is strong. He is old enough that my powers struggle to hold him. "Let her go!" I shout.

"She will kill both of us. I am saving the both of us!"

"Killing her won't save us."

"Do you love me?" Ambrose asks.

The question bewilders me. He knows I love him. He knows I will do pretty much anything for him. He counts on it. My mind runs through every scenario, no matter how gruesome. The question lingers.

Can I live with watching him murder her?

No, I can't live with watching him kill anyone else.

My hand whips forward and Ambrose flies out of the room. Ria coughs as her eyes land on me. She mutters a quick, "Sorry" as she hurls another spell at me. I whisper a counter to the curse and it rebounds off of me onto her. She trembles violently as she slips to the floor.

I rush over and grab her as she begins to convulse. Her convulsions ease when I mutter one of the only cleansing spells. Her body softens under my grip as I realize what I have done.

"She was going to do it to us first, babe."

"Shut up, Ambrose."

"She—"

"Stop."

Moments pass and it feels like eternity. This memory is a core memory for me. It's the night everything I ever feared was realized. Ambrose was the bad guy, and so was I.

"This is the memory you run from?" A darker voice asks.

The world falls away to utter darkness. The demon appears in my peripheral as he circles me. I try to control my breathing. I can feel a panic attack coming on. The nightmare dissolved away, leaving only the darkness. The demon stops behind me as its claw lands on my shoulder.

"I can sense your fear. It's intoxicating and inviting. It's why you are drawn here." The demon says. "I have sen many different seeds sprout, but this is my favorite kind."

"Shut up!"

"Your fear doesn't originate from an outside source. No, you don't fear the dark nor pigeons."

"Pigeons?"

"It is more common than you'd guess," The demon says, "But the thing that scares you more than anyone is a person."

"Ambrose."

The demon lingers beside my ear. "Yourself. My name, Deus, is Anarch. Come willingly."

The demon's name echoes through my mind as it all falls away.

The demon is right. Ambrose is not the most terrifying thing in my life.

I am.