Going skydiving after tearing eighty thousand people into pieces of flesh and bone, wasn't something every murderer did. But Eric didn't give a fück about what normal people did - or, in this case, killers' normal activities.
After scarfing down his hearty breakfast of goulash following his return from the cemeteries, he'd packed a rucksack and flown in his private jet to Colorado. He was sure that by now, the headlines were all talking about the Miami Night Massacre. They could talk all they want, they could speculate all they want. They were never getting close to the fücking answers.
Silly humans, he thought as he stood atop Castle Rock. They'd need the work of three powerful sorcerers to be able to pin the deaths on him.
It wasn't like he didn't care at all about the damage he'd done. He was trying hard not to. After promising himself to never unleash his inner beast again since 1903, he felt disappointed in himself for breaking his promise.
He didn't like breaking his promises, which was why he hardly made any in the first place.
Speaking of promises, he had one to fulfill for Adrian. The bàstard better be prepared when the time came, because he was going to serve him his portion of death in style, garnished with extra flair.
He closed his eyes and shut out the world for a moment. Peace of mind - what he'd been lacking lately. No worry, no insecurity. Just him and... the rocks.
He reopened his eyes, then geared up. Haha, time to take on the world. With a smile, he slipped on his goggles and jumped off the cliff.
It was a bit windy and chilly today. The air currents were wild. Yet, everywhere was silent. This was one of those moments Eric wished he was like the wind, freely flowing without any hold.
Even if he lived a nearly independent life compared to other seventeen-year-olds, he still felt bound. Not by his parents, but by the world around him. The laws that bound supernatural beings.
That he was a hybrid didn't mean he was completely free and powerful. In fact, his life was a lot more hellish.
Three hours later, he hiked the narrow, lonely trail to the back of a stone house. It was divided into two floors with a wraparound balcony on the upper floor. The back porch was decorated with fresh potted plants. Wild lilies and carnations studded the patch of lawn stretched out on the right side.
The back door flung open just as he placed his foot on the first porch step.
"Thanks for ruining my surprise," he murmured.
Nikolai chuckled. "I sensed you before you reached my backyard."
"How's Fiji?" He dropped his rucksack on the kitchen floor. The room was very tidy and completely furnished with every state-of-the-art appliance.
"Boring." He switched on the coffee machine. "Coffee?"
He nodded. "The usual. And the women?"
"Don't ask."
Eric's brows went up. "What happened?"
Nikolai narrowed his green eyes at him. "I said, don't ask."
Okay... "Any more gist about the Curtis family?" he asked as sat himself on a chair.
His friend gave him a long pointed look. "Hmm. This necklace, you still haven't told me why it's important to you."
"It's no concern of yours, Nikolai. Just give me the dàmn information I need."
"Nope." He leaned back in his chair, propped his legs on top of the table and crossed them at the ankles. "Not until you tell me what it's for."
Eric heaved an exasperated sigh. "It's the key."
"Key to what?" he asked instantly.
He stretched out his legs in front of him, and eyed his friend for a minute. "Like I said, it's no concern of yours."
"Well, then, you can forget about your snippet of info." The six-foot-tall man rose from his chair and flexed his arm muscles like a panther ready to strike. Rays of sunlight hit off his sandy brown hair, giving it a golden shade.
Eric monitored the young man's movements speculatively. "You better start talking, Nikolai Litvinenko."
"Or what?" He half-filled two mugs with coffee, then poured some hot tea from a teapot into one of the mugs.
Eric took the mug containing the mixture of tea and coffee, and set it on the table before him. "I don't want to make a threat I won't fulfill. Don't pull my legs."
He hid his smirk behind the rim of his cup. "I like it when you're principled. It's not everyday Alasdair Ashers uses his common sense."
"I always use my common fücking sense." He took a big gulp of his scalding beverage and set the cup back down. "Now, you better use yours."
There was instant dead silence. A pin could be dropped and the sound heard.
Slowly, Nikolai turned to the sink. He emptied his cup and rinsed it.
Eric rose up quietly from his chair. In a flash, he was holding Nikolai down over the sink, by his neck. He leaned down and whispered menacingly into his ear, "You better start talking if you don't want me to snap your fücking neck."
He let out a short laugh. "My, my. This never gets old."
Just then, Eric felt something stab into his right side. He jerked back, releasing Nikolai from his hold, and doubled over. "What the fück..."
Again, his friend chuckled. "You never learn, do you? I've warned you to never hold me down like that."
"I expected a reaction from you, but not... whatever the hell it is you're using. You used..." He paused to catch his breath. "...something different." He glanced at his hands, but there was nothing. "Is it magic now? I thought you said you don't use magic."
Nikolai snorted. "Wolf hunters have natural magic in them. Otherwise, how do we sniff out our prey?"
Eric straightened, the pain already gone. "That did not feel like silver."
"It's not silver." A smirk tugged at his lips.
The younger boy frowned. "Then, what the fück is it?"
In a motion too fast for the human eye, Nikolai produced a stick-like object from behind him. Its tip glowed a bright golden like smouldering embers.
"A totem pole," the hybrid said flatly. He raised a brow at the wolf hunter standing before him.
"Maybe, maybe not. It depends on how you see it."
"It is a totem pole," he spoke slowly as if talking to an unintelligent child.
The hunter shrugged. "Whatever. But it's more than a totem."
His dark brow still raised up was an indication that he should go on.
"It's the Merkellon stick."
At that, his other brow joined the first one to move to a new height. "That thing is for vampire hunters. People that hunt vampires."
The older guy scowled. "You know I hate it when you talk to me like that. I'm twenty-two, not twelve."
"I'm a hundred and seventy."
"Whatever. But you're a seventeen-year-old boy." He added that last part with a mischievous grin.
He sucked in a sharp breath. The Litvinenkos were one of the few people that Eric never dared to lay his hand on. Besides their daughter being his first lover and their son being a bona fide and feared wolf hunter, they were great confidants. Their kind of friendship was rare, and Eric valued it a lot.
"Boy or not, I have greater knowledge of the universe." He pressed two fingers to his forehead. "We're deviating. Get back on track. So, why do you have that?" He pointed to the stick his friend was still holding proudly.
"Long story for another time."
"I didn't know it glows. The last time I'd seen it, it was just a plain stick."
"Then, the carrier might have used magic to veil the glow. This," he gestured to the glowing tip, "indicates the presence of a vampire within a fifty-mile radius. Which is why it hurts when they're stabbed. You're only lucky that you're a hybrid."
"Or I'd have been ash by now."
"Yup." He glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. "Excuse me." He brushed past him and left the kitchen.
Before he returned, Eric was seated on the couch in the living room. He mentally switched on the TV and browsed through the channels. He paused briefly at the national news channel.
"...the investigations of the Miami Night Massacre have yielded no results yet. Detective Grew, here with me now, has something to say about the attack." The blonde reporter turned to the dark, brooding man in a fedora hat staring blankly at the woman and the camera. "What do you think is the cause of these attacks, Detective?"
"Well, all I can say is that whatever did this is no mere animal. It's rabid and extremely dangerous. Besides, it carries a lot of mystery."
"Any leads yet?"
"None at the moment. Although, we do have a suspect who might have a few answers."
"Does this suspect have anything to do with the animal?"
The man chortled lightly. "Unfortunately, I cannot disclose any information yet."
Eric sighed and moved on to the next channel. This one was a kids' channel. Without wasting a single second, he switched to another one.
"What did you do?"
Nikolai's cool question came from the doorway behind him. He turned the TV off and faced him squarely.
"Had some fun," he replied casually, shrugging as well.
"What. Did. You. Do."
This had Eric arching both of his thick, dark brows. Right now, with his muscular arms folded and a mean scowl on his face, Nikolai posed as the annoyed older brother ready to scold the younger brother for misbehaving.
"You unleashed it, didn't you?" Eric blinked back in response. "In the human world." His shoulders sagged. He came around to join the dark-haired Talgan hybrid on the sofa, and held his head between his hands with his elbows on his knees. "You've fücking messed things up right now, do you know that?"
Nonchalantly, Eric shrugged.
"Urgh!"
A long, deep sigh.
"Shut up!" he snapped. "Just shut the fück up. Do you understand?"
While waiting patiently for his friend's anger to subside, Eric's eyes wandered.
The living room was sparsely furnished, bachelor style. Two sofas and an armchair, three stools and a glass table in the centre. On the wall opposite the sofas hung the large plasma TV. Below it, there was a rectangular wooden deck carved into the stone wall. Inside was the DVD player. An X-box set lay on the small rug on the floor.
The walls were almost bare. Only the picture of a female fox hung on the left wall. The floor was made of varnished wood. Under the centre table was a small, red rug.
A single bookshelf leaning against the right wall, contained only a few books. There was air-conditioning and a single large lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling.
Two things about Nikolai were simplicity and style. Being a regular traveller, he didn't have time for extravagant furnishings of his temporary residences. Since he'd graduated the previous year, he'd been globetrotting with his dad, Vladimir, more frequently. The two hunters were very busy men and took their work seriously.
"Here are the pictures." Nikolai's voice and the slamming of an envelope on the table brought Eric's attention back to him.
He picked up the thin, brown folder and opened it. "After three and half years, you finally come up with something."
"Remember I slackened two years ago."
Eric tsked under his breath, shaking his head. "Lazy Nicky, stupid Nicky." The first picture was of a dark-skinned woman in a pink cotton dress and a bright smile. Her hair was pulled back into a small bun. He wondered how she was able to accomplish that feat since it was African kinky hair.
Nikolai reached out to slap his arm but he shifted to dodge the hand. "Stop it."
He shrugged. "Can't help it. Gave you a piece of easy work and you couldn't do it."
"Yeah. I was busy with college when you were hounding my àss for a lame necklace."
"It's not lame," Eric shot back, his eyes briefly leaving the picture of a young dark man in black jeans and a T-shirt.
"It is, since I don't know what's its importance." He looked at the picture in Eric's left hand. "That's Kennedy in his twenties."
"He looks hopeless," the hybrid commented.
The other guy snorted at his words. He gave him a derisive look. "Someone jealous?"
A hot glare was sent his way. "Shut up. As a matter of fact, I can never be jealous of a mere human."
"Well, he's no mere human, since he was a light psychic and once possessed the mysterious necklace of a dead powerful sorceress."
"Who was his father?"
He shook his head. "I have absolutely no idea. But he went by the last name, Tsosie."
"Curtis is his mother's maiden name. Did his parents divorce?"
Nikolai ran a hand through his soft brown strands and let out a deep sigh. "No. Actually, the Curtis family are very mysterious in general. From a reliable source, Kennedy's father didn't live very long. He died after his last baby clocked two. They say it was strange. Mysterious.
"Then, it was followed by deaths of two of his children before his wife. Kennedy died four years ago."
"He has kids?" Eric asked. He flipped through the pictures till he got to the last one.
"Yup. Two, of course." He glanced down at the picture his friend was now studying. "That's his wife, Zoe. Then, Phyllis and Jessica."
"What the hell is a light psychic, anyway?"
"Ask humans who like to label everything." Nikolai let out a deep sigh and stared ahead. "They're just... psychics. I really don't know what makes them special. Some people mistake them to be sorcerers, but they're not."
"So, their abilities are yet unknown."
"For now. I'm gonna find out soon."
In the picture, the family looked happy and content. Kennedy had an arm around his wife's waist and his other hand on his younger girl's shoulder. Zoe's hands were resting on the shoulders of the other girl. Though their attire screamed modesty, Eric could tell they were actually living a high life.
Zoe wore Gucci, Phyllis wore Prada.
However, it was the younger child who seemed out of place. The chubby unsmiling girl was in faded jean shorts having frayed ends, and a loose, pink T-shirt with the words: Watch Me Rule The World. Her big, mocha-brown eyes were staring at the camera with boredom and irritation. Her wild dark hair was pulled up into a loose ponytail, and some stubborn wavy strands had escaped the hairtie and fallen at the sides of her face. Small feet were tucked into simple designer sandals.
Typical, he thought to himself.
"How old were they?" he finally asked.
Nikolai had already sprawled half of his body on one side of the sofa. "Thirty-nine, thirty-seven, eleven, and nine."
Again, Eric studied the picture. "The older girl, what do you know about her?"
"She's hot."
He shot him a look.
The man shrugged nonchalantly. "What? It's not a crime if I can spot female hotness from a mile away. However, according to my reliable source, she hardly smiles."
A crease formed between his brows. From the little he'd observed, Jessica seemed to be the Miss Grouchy of the family.
Eric's blue eyes focused on the picture a third time. "I doubt that."
Nikolai's gaze flickered to the photo. "Ignore that. It's just for appearances' sake."
"What were they doing?"
"Planning a beach party. The enlarged picture is hanging in the foyer of their beach house in LA."
"And Jessica?"
"She's known as the brat of the house. Outspoken and easygoing. However, she offers more smiles to people than her sister."
His eyes slowly left the picture and settled on Nikolai. "Who is this reliable source?"
A smirk graced his thin, beautiful lips. "You'd pay."
He huffed. "I'm not fúcking paying a thing."
"Fine then." He looked away, as if dismissing him.
It was times like these, that Eric wished he could compel this man. He was too damn smart and arrogant for his own good. "Start talking, Lazy Nicky."
He narrowed his green eyes at Eric's serious expression. "Nuh-uh."
What the--
As fast as lightning, Eric reached for Nikolai's arm. He twisted it at an awkward angle behind his shoulder. The older guy shot him a scathing glare.
"Let go."
"I've had enough of your bullshït, Nikolai. If I don't get that necklace in time, the 'revolvers' will, and it won't be amusing for all of us when they do."
Nikolai gritted his teeth as Eric twisted his other arm at a completely different angle from the first. Anyone who walked in on them at that moment would not meet a pretty sight.
"Urgh," he groaned in frustration. "The person... He doesn't hang around much."
"What's his name?" he bit out slowly through clenched white teeth.
The hunter sighed. "His name is..."
*****
"How was Colorado?" Chelsea pulled her son into a motherly hug when he walked into the den later that night.
"Interesting."
"Did you go skydiving?"
He put on a small smile. "You know I wouldn't miss it."
Her own hazel eyes sparkled with affection. "I'm sure you're feeling much better now."
"Yup."
She put her arms around him again. From over her shoulder, Eric rolled his eyes. He wasn't one for hugs and his mother was aware of that. Anyway, she was the only one who could get away with it. Connor had stopped hugging him since he clocked ten.
"Don't beat yourself up because of last night," she whispered into his ear.
"Yes, Mother."
She rolled her eyes, too, but smiled warmly. "We all make mistakes, honey. And, sometimes, we have to break principles out of desperation."
A deep sigh. "Yes, Mother."
"In a little while, you'll come to realise that."
There was a momentary pause, followed by a grunt. "I don't break principles."
"I know. Which is why you're the best son any mother could ever have."
Ironic, he thought to himself. He was sure certain mothers would've him burnt alive at the time he'd committed his first accidental murder at the age of three.
"Your father wants to see you."
At that, Eric's perfect eyebrows inclined upwards. "In the basement?"
"His study." She pushed him towards the door.
Connor's study wasn't the typical table and chair with shelves lining the walls. Instead, there was a small glass table with two chaise longues and an armchair around it. Then, pool tables, a mini bar, two treadmills, and a shelf not containing books but heads of his vampire victims. The last time Eric had counted, there were about eighty heads. This number was just a little fraction of the number of vampire heads and hearts locked up in Connor's secret chamber in the basement.
"How did it go?"
"Well." He sat on one of the chaise longues. Connor was seated on the other one.
None of his parents knew the actual reason he'd gone to Colorado. He'd told his mother skydiving, and his dad that he was visiting Nikolai.
"How's Nick?"
Eric was very aware that his father was fond of the hunter. Sometimes, they could almost pass off as father and son. Another reason he liked Nikolai. "Bored."
"As usual."
"You sent for me."
Instead of replying, he picked up a small cream-coloured envelope from the stool beside him, and tossed it to his son.
Eric opened it and read the contents of the card at a brief glance. He looked up at his father and asked him, "Are we going?"
"I have to. It's not about me or your mother, it's about you." He gave him a pointed look as he waited for his answer.
"I might." He tossed the invitation card back to the stool. "Is that all?"
Connor shrugged. "If you have anything else to say."
Eric rose to his feet and headed out of the room, but paused after opening the door. "Do you have any idea who Nolan Paolini is?"
"No. Why do you ask?"
"No reason," he quickly said, before closing the door behind him.
*****
Eric had done the world justice by going to school the following morning. As usual, he was never in a bright mood whenever he was around these human teenagers.
In fact, his sour mood had worsened when Jessica had run into him in the hallway. She'd even called him 'stupid'. Who the fück was she? Even after he'd instinctively called her an idiot, she wanted to go ahead and call him 'àsswipe'. It had taken him everything in his willpower not to let out his early morning frustration and rip her limbs off.
If she'd known the predicament she'd have brought upon herself, she would thank her stars for Doudall Ton and his perfect timing.
During recess, Eric loitered at the back of the planetarium. The building was one of the last in the school compound and well hidden, being the closest to that lonely trail that led to the woods.
The sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention but he heaved a sigh when he got a whiff of the person's scent.
Logan gave him a puzzled look. "Is everything alright?"
"Probably."
"You actually don't look fine. You look like you want to strangle someone."
"Actually, I do. I've been waiting for the past fifteen fücking minutes."
One of his blonde brows rose. "For who?"
"That bïtch."
It took a second for it to click. Then, his lips stretched into a smirk. "Ah. It's just day two, and you're already setting up a tryst."
Eric gave him the look of cold-blooded murder. "Shut the fück up."
He chuckled. "Should I hang around? Just to make sure you don't fulfill that look in your eyes when she shows up."
"No."
He rolled his eyes. "Of course, I'll be out of sight."
"Whatever."
He clapped a hand on his shoulder briefly as he walked around him. Not before he gave him a mischievous wink. "Have fun, Ashers. Then, we'd talk during lunch."
Eric grunted, knowing why they'd talk.
When he'd walked into calculus class that morning, his blessed ears had picked up on a particular conversation. Every other conversation around him was basically about the Miami Night Massacre, but this one said a lot.
From his sitting position, he'd monitored Jessica Snowden as she'd talked about the event with Doudall. She'd pretended to not know a thing about it, because he knew she'd lied when she said Karen had told her that the dead bodies were in the cemeteries.
While Mr Rooney had rambled out his lecture notes, he'd thought back on Inna's words from two nights ago. She'd said there had been a teenage girl in one of the cemeteries trying to trace the source, instead of mourning for her deceased relative.
He was going to demand for answers from her, which was why he'd passed that note to her in class. He knew she'd be able to trace the note to him. After all, she was a psychic.
However, as recess came to an end, a disgruntled Eric realised that Jessica had done what no living human had ever done to him.
Defying his order.