Endlessly

  Endlessly

  Title Page

  Chapter 0

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Endlessly

  By C.V. Hunt

  Copyright 2011 C.V. Hunt

  Smashwords Edition

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental unless specified in acknowledgements.

  Copyright 2011 C. V. Hunt

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved.

  http://www.authorcvhunt.com

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person , please purchase and additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This work was edited by Peter Heyrman. He can be contacted by

  mailto:bearpressedit@hotmail.com or by calling (410)-433-0908

  Author’s photos for jacket and website were taken by Tony Ocha. He can be contacted at http://www.tattoosbyoch.com

  ISBN: 1456356534

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4563-5653-8

  (ebook) ISBN: 978-1-4507-5995-3

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2010919430

  DEDICATION

  This book is for everyone that has accepted me for who I am.

  Words. They are our greatest weapon in life. They have the power to heal and destroy. Choose them carefully as you battle each day. A single word could be your last spoken or heard. You will be remembered for them.

  These pages are filled with some of my words.

  C.V. Hunt

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A thank you to Peter Heyrman, my editor, for inspiration and guidance.

  To Tony Och, my tattooist, photographer, and friend, thanks for the morbidly funny conversations and creepy photos.

  A huge thank you to Chris Godfrey, Pedro Soto, and Patti Witte for allowing me use your names and likeness. I had way too much fun doing wicked things to you.

  To Richard, my husband, thank you for putting up with me, Verloren, Ash, and Jason.

  Chapter 0

  PRELUDE

  I had finally met the Quatre. I’d known of them for so long, but often I’d wondered if they were anything more than a scary bedtime story we told to keep each other in line.

  Now I stood before them in a beach condo somewhere in the Caribbean. The four of them lounged on the furniture, acting as if this was nothing more than a casual conversation about the weather. The balcony door was open. Through it came the sound of waves breaking on the beach. A warm breeze fluttered through nearby curtains. It would have been nice under other circumstances.

  The tropical atmosphere masked the fact that this was intended to be the place of my death. Would my death be a relief? I didn’t know. The only thing I was sure of was that no one should live as long as I had. My kind--what the world calls vampires--don’t have souls. That makes us unique, but it also means that death is truly the end—no reincarnation, or afterlife of any kind. What would it be like to sleep with no dreams? Sweet oblivion? I tried to imagine nothing. I had lost my belief in any god a long time ago. The incarnates confirmed this, telling me that gods did not exist. After all, why would any god create a monster like me?

  Kale’s face was blank behind sunglasses. “You haven’t answered us Verloren,” he said, allowing a glimmer of smugness to spice his apathy. He wore a suit—certainly more fitting than my casual outfit.

  I searched his eyes, trying to erase any cruelness that might creep into my expression. The room’s bright sunlight was hell on my eyes. It was a struggle to keep them open, but if I didn’t how would I see death coming. I didn’t take my eyes off Kale. I felt that my only chance for sympathy would be with him--a fellow vampire. Wind ruffled his long white hair.

  “I choose not to conceal my appearance, for the same reasons you don’t conceal yours,” I told him. As we eyed each other it occurred to me that our colorless skin and hair made the exercise something like looking into a mirror--except that our features were as different as they could be.

  Kale laughed. The werewolf sitting next to him looked smug. Hania, the shaman, avoided eye contact, staring at the floor instead. Then there was little Sara. She fidgeted as if she were really the child she appeared to be.

  Kale leaned forward and grinned. “I do not tromp about in the human world like you. Do you really think that the humans won’t look at you and suspect something?” He shook his head, as if he were dealing with a stubborn child.

  “Sure, they’ll see something different,” I sneered. “I won’t deny it, Kale. But this is the millennium, 2000, modern times. No one is going to stone me. They’ll just think I’m an albino. You’re making a lot out of nothing. Don’t be so afraid.”

  If Kale planned to kill me, I had to at least put up a fight. Maybe I was sick of this world, but with no hope past death, I was determined to try to stay alive. There was no reason to remind him that death was a vampire’s greatest fear. He knew it from personal experience.

  Kale contemplated my argument. These four—this Quatre—worried about their own survival, not mine. I couldn’t blame them. We all knew what might happen if we—vampires, incarnates, and all the rest—were exposed.

  William, the werewolf, glanced about nervously. With his plain face, buzz-cut hair, khakis and plain white shirt, he looked like any middle-aged man. His gun holster was obvious, but I hated him more for those stupid khakis than for his wish to kill me.

  Finally he asked: “Couldn’t we just kill him and get it over with?”

  My body tensed. William drew his revolver from its holster. I might be able to dodge a shot, but then there were the goons outside. These folks had enough firepower to take out most of the island.

  “Let’s not be hasty.” Kale raised his hand to William, then turned to smirk at me. “Verloren has a special talent for seeing people for what they truly are. I’ve never heard of such a thing before. It really fascinates me. What is it you call them?”

  I eyed him carefully. “Auras,” I said. “I see their aura…and know what they are.” This was the first interest Kale had shown in anything other than my imminent death. I could see Kale’s aura, a black film hugging his skin. His vampire’s aura was something like my own.

  William’s bright aura was red.

  Hania’s silvery shaman’s aura nearly blinded me. His long hair fell into his face, concealing dark brown eyes and weathered russet skin. I couldn’t look at him long.

  Sara’s was the rainbow prism of all Incarnates. The tiny girl sat upside down, her back on the seat, and her legs running up the chairback. She swung her feet, stared into space, and sung a child’s lullaby to herself.

  Watching her made me wonder if I’d ever been a father. Surely I could have had a family before the change. I’d been old enough. What would it have been like to live as a normal human? Would a family be a blessing? Would I want people who cared about me? Would I want a soul?
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br />   Hania still stared at the floor, looking as if he didn’t care if I lived or died. His face showed the wear of age. He sat as still as a statue.

  We said nothing. The room filled with the sound of the ocean and Sara’s fidgeting. The blonde child twisted her hair and stared vacantly at the wall. She was a fairy who was still having trouble with shifting. That’s why they chose her. A fairy is always eager for more– more of everything. More power, more money, more pleasure—they’ll do anything to get what they want. Even then I could see that when she got older the others would have to suffer her desire for power.

  “We will let you go as long as you take someone with you. They will keep an eye on you,” Kale said. William stared at him, his jaw dropping in disbelief. Kale continued: “If you create a problem, he will be instructed to kill you. He will report back to us. If he sees no problems with your life and lifestyle, after awhile, he can leave.”

  Relief flooded me, but I hated the idea of a babysitter. I looked at the others. They waited to see where Kale would lead them. Why bother with a group? I wondered. It was obvious this was Kale’s game. He was judge, jury and, if necessary, executioner.

  As they left William was the only one to acknowledge me, glaring at me as he went out the door.

  Sure, vampires were at the top of the pecking order, but born knowings and werewolves were only a step behind. I regarded Sara as nothing more than decoration, representing what was left of those who were not human. She was a beautiful child who would grow into a beautiful temptress luring the unsuspecting to their deaths.

  As I closed the door I sighed. I now knew just how real the Quatre was. They ruled the non-human world, deciding what rules we must follow. In my case that meant I needed a baby sitter. Otherwise I might talk, and that was always forbidden.

  **********

  Over a decade passes.

  Chapter 1

  SECOND SIGHT

  The store was a front, a basic part of the disguise that kept the Quatre off my back. Not that I was hiding from them. They knew about our shop. I put on a human façade to keep them happy, and counted myself lucky that they hadn’t called me in for another meeting.

  I had helpers. Three of us, a vampire, a werewolf and a witch, were running the store. We posed as humans, while an assortment of incarnates filtered in and out, looking for information. They were usually glad to find us. Few of them suspected that a place such as this could even exist.

  Then there were our human patrons, high school and college kids looking for CDs, books, or clothes. God, how I hated them, with their normal lives and boring problems. They complained about the pettiest things: dating, clothes, school…If they could walk a mile in my shoes.

  And here was Chris Godfrey, the only human I could tolerate, leaning on the counter, trying to hustle me over some CDs. He was at least a head taller than my 5’7”, but as he leaned over to rifle through a pile of CDs, he gave up the height advantage. Chris wore a stocking cap and looked as if he’d skipped a couple of days shaving. It was nice to have someone around that appreciated music the way I did—even though he was human. Someone once told me that it only takes one thing in common to make a friend. We had two.

  “Come on man. I’ll trade you a box of ammo for these,” he offered. Chris owned the small gun store across the parking lot from my shop. It was convenient to have that kind of access to firepower. Chris never worried about my lack of ID. I was never even sure if ID was a requirement for gun ownership in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

  “Sure,” I whispered. “They better be hollow points.” I kept my voice down so the few customers wouldn’t hear, but I couldn’t do anything about the damn demon in the back. He’d been strolling around the books all day, and from where he was he would almost certainly hear the conversation.

  Suddenly the bell rang, signaling the door opening. Chris and I both looked over as the girl came in. There was something about her. Chris looked back to me and continued talking. I caught a glimpse of the girl’s unusual aura, then I got a burst of pictures. The Quatre was the only one I recognized, then it was all gone. I stood staring at the front of the store. The girl had disappeared from my direct line of sight. I stared straight ahead, trying to grasp what I had just seen.

  “Helloooo, Verloren?” Chris said waving his hand in front of my face.

  I turned and stared at him.

  “Where did you go man?” he demanded. “You totally spaced out on me, and your eyes kinda rolled back in your head all crazy. I thought you were gonna pass out or have a seizure, or something.”

  It hit me that Chris was seeing something I wanted hidden. He knew nothing about me being a vampire, nor did he recognize the weird collection of supernatural beings that ran in and out of my store for what they really were. He didn’t need to. Chris’s ignorance protected both of us. I quickly composed myself, and lied. “Man, I haven’t been feeling too good lately.”

  “You need to eat something, ya scrawny fucker. I got some cold pizza in my store if you want it.”

  “No,” I replied. “That’s ok, I’m cool.”

  Human food. Ugh. Chris was right, but he couldn’t have imagined what that meant. I did need to feed, but meals aren’t that simple for vampires. There’s always getting rid of the dead bodies. Though I could eat human food, that couldn’t do a vampire any good.

  I started looking around for the girl while Chris went on about bands, music, and whatever else crossed his mind. I stood up tip-toed, peering over the aisles of books, CDs, and clothes. Chris’s voice droned on. Music played on the store speakers. Finally I caught a faint aura by the books. Then I saw a flash of light.

  I was pulled back to the normal world by Chris’s voice. “Hey buddy what’s up? You look a little puzzled.”

  “It’s…it’s just been a long day.”

  What the hell was happening to me? The auras, yeah…I could see them, but what was this? Some weird delusion brought on by my vampire hunger?

  I turned to see Jessica Quinn’s petite frame bouncing around in the back with the new age stuff. The witch’s silver aura and mass of red hair were too bright to view without sunglasses. The New Age section disguised merchandise witches and shamans used in spells. What was she doing there?

  Witches know everything. From the beginning of history they’ve carried their knowledge through many lives, never losing memories despite undergoing reincarnation. That is why we refer to them as the born knowings.

  “Well man, I’m gonna get out of your hair,” Chris said, “which you need to do something about…and those pants too. I’ll come back tomorrow.” He laughed as he grabbed his CDs and left. I felt a curl of cold air waft in from the dark night as the door shut behind him.

  I wasn’t going to change my shoulder-length, black-and-lime-green hair…or my baggy pants with their hanging chains. After all, if you looked at my misfit crowd you would realize I was just trying to fit in. Some were human and I had to try and act like I was human too. The vitiligo was hard to cover up, and I hated spray tans. It was so much easier posing as a goth.

  I didn’t need to wear contacts because the vampire virus didn’t affect my eyes. They were pale blue, and reasonably human-like. Still the light forced me to wear sunglasses even on overcast days. I preferred the winter, when the sun set early and I could often forget wearing shades.

  As Jessica approached I said: “I need to talk to you in private before you go home.” I gave her a look, just to reinforce the “in private.”

  I saw the girl looking through the clothes on the rack. She had a book in her hand. Her back was to me, and her raised black hoodie and beanie cap hid any trace of her features. All I could see was tawny hair falling straight from beneath the hood. It was halfway to her waist.

  She had a strange aura, rainbow-like, so I assumed she must be an incarnate. Most incarnates auras show all the colors of the spectrum evenly, but hers was outlined in red with the rainbow spreading around it. Red auras were usually confined to werewolves.

&n
bsp; I was recalling that when the werewolf walked in, as if my thought of him had been a summons. He was in his early twenties, just as I seemed to be, but in all other ways his appearance contrasted with mine. Jason was tall, tanned, and wore his brown hair in spikes. He’d entered through the back door that led to the apartment we shared. He saw her, then flashed a smug smile at me.

  I watched as he walked up to her, and suddenly I realized the pervert was going to ask her for her number. For the thousandth time I recognized that the only reason I put up with Jason was so that he could eat the human bodies that I left behind. It was the only way he, or any werewolf, could shape shift into his form—by consuming human flesh. Having someone around who could eat the drained bodies, bones and all, was damned convenient. I had no choice but to kill them. If I didn’t the virus would spread through their bodies, and they would become vampires too. The Quatre didn’t give permission for that too often. I’d pushed it once with them, and didn’t want to see them again. Their one rule was that we keep ourselves beneath human radar. As long as we went unnoticed we could live among them.

  Jason was rearranging items on shelves, planning to drop one, then do the “Oops! Sorry I bumped into you.” thing, but he couldn’t get close enough. Every time he came within range she moved. They looked like two opposed magnets bouncing off each other. Maybe she sensed his pervert vibe.