Nightborn (part 10)

Rachel’s knees quivered, her apathy was broken by that all-consuming emotion. Fear.

“You said I’ll be safe here,” she exclaimed, fists clenching, heart racing. “That he’ll never find me here.”

“You are safe.”

“Then why did you bring him here?”

She was so mad at the detective. She believed him, allowing herself to be taken to this Lightblood’s safehouse, and then he goes and brings the monster itself along. 

“I thought I’d never had to see him again!”

Damien handed Mortensen over to Aiden who pushed the bastard down the hallway, escorted by other Lightbloods.

“I had no other choice, Rachel,” Damien said, turning to her. “I couldn’t lock him up at the police station, he’s too dangerous. This is the only place that can keep him until we decide what to do with him-”

“Kill him!” The words just shot out from her, unstoppable like a storm. “Kill him and make sure he stays dead!” She was shaking from her anger, shaking from the memory of terror and fear. Why did he have to bring him so close to her?

She felt a comforting hand rest on her shoulder. “Miss Austen,” Damien spoke softly, “It is over. We’ve got him! He can never hurt you again, as we have him in silver chains, guarded by a dozen Lightblood. He won’t hurt anyone ever again.”

She locked eyes with the detective’s. There was pride in them, a satisfaction after achieving a long-sought-after goal. But also confusion and uncertainty.

“You’re not sure,” she said, wondering how she even knew that. She was never that good at reading people.

Damien sighed, letting go of her shoulder. “I admit, I have my suspicions. He gave himself up. I don’t know yet what game he’s playing, but one thing is for sure: we have him.”

Rachel glanced down the mansion hallway and caught a glimpse of how they took Mortensen down a set of stairs, probably to the basement. A part of her found small pleasure in that.

“I’m not sure I can sleep, knowing he’s here,” she said.

“Someone will be there to guard him at all times. And Aiden will be near you, always. He can sense a Nightborn coming from miles away.”

“I’m just a regular person,” she found herself saying, feeling tired. “How did I get caught up in all this?”

The detective snorted softly. “Regular person? I’d beg to differ. You survived something that most people don't dare dream of in their nightmares. There’s more to you than meets the eye, Rachel.”

She looked into his eyes and her mouth formed a smile. He was sincere.

Why do I know that?

“Great work Damien.” Rebeca, the police chief, approached them, looking pleased. The arrest must have eased the woman’s nerves, but it wreaked havoc with Rachel’s.

“I told you I won’t let you down.”

“I didn’t expect it would be so soon,” the chief said. “And that he’d surrender. I’d rather have him caught running than turned in, but it is what it is.” She turned to Rachel. “Come with me. We’ll have Aiden take a look at you when he settles our new guest in.”

Rachel glanced at Damien who nodded with a smile. “Remember, there’s more to you than you know. I’ve got a hunch.” 

“All I want is there to be just enough of me so I can go being myself again.” She was tired of secrets and mysteries. Why couldn’t the world make sense for once? She didn’t need more uncertainty, especially not about herself.

Rachel turned and followed Rebeca down the same hallway they dragged Mortensen a few minutes ago. I’m walking in his footsteps. She shivered at the thought.

Gather yourself, she thought. He’s locked up now. 

Rebeca led her up the stairs to a different part of the mansion. The place was huge. It felt as if she was walking since the moment they brought her here.

“This is not a safe house for witness protection,” Rebeca said as they passed room after room. “It is a safe house for people with the gift of Light. A place where they can go to and learn their gifts in security.”

“It’s big.”

“There's a lot of us.”

As they walked, they passed other people - other Lightblood, presumably - some of them being children. They glanced at Rachel with curiosity, as they would a new classmate. 

“What exactly are you? The Lightblood.”

“The world has forgotten much, Rachel. Many things are not known today by the majority but were revered feverishly in ancient times. I’m sure you’ll learn with time, but in short, just like the Nightborn have the Seed which gives them their dark powers, so we have the Gift, which gives us guidance. And a means to act on that guidance.” 

“Are you an angel?”

“No,” Rebeca said flatly. “But I am an agent of one.”

Rachel nearly stumbled. 

“Aiden will explain more. As soon as we determine what your roots are.”

Rachel frowned. “My roots?”

The woman pushed open a double-winged door at the end of a hallway and Rachel entered behind her. The room appeared to be a library of some sort, with books everywhere.

“Your family. We keep an exhaustive record of ancestry that reaches back to when such things were first recorded.”

“Why do you want to know about my family?” Rachel paused in the middle of the room. The air smelled of dust and secrets, and she could sense that the woman wasn’t completely honest.

What is she not telling me?

And why am I so certain she isn’t telling me something?

Rebeca turned, inspecting her face. “I think yours might be important. We’ll see what Aiden has to say.”

***

“I’m sorry that it didn’t work, Damien,” Aiden said as they walked up the stairs, leaving Mortensen locked in darkness with Lightblood guarding him. 

“It’s alright,” Damien said. “You did the best you could.”

“Which wasn’t good enough.” The tall blonde man spoke softly, but Damien could hear a hint of apology in his voice. His eyes shone light blue. “How are you feeling?”

“Like there’s a wildfire inside me, burning under my skin and wanting to consume the world.”

“Oh,” Aiden blinked. “It’s that bad?”

Actually, I think I like it.

“I can handle it.”

“Perhaps. But what if it’s not pushing with all its strength yet? Letting you think you’re in control?”

Then we’ve already lost and there is no hope.

“It only takes over if I let it.”

“And mind you it will force you to let it. Damien, I fear for your soul. You should stay here and let us figure out a way to help you. I’ve developed new techniques since we’ve tried it last time.”

“Did any of them work?”

Aiden paused.

“Then there’s no use staying.”

“You’ve captured the Nightborn leader.”

“His pack is still loose. And there are sure as hell others out there.”

“Look, Damien,” Aiden said, stopping at the top of the stairs. “Even if your consciousness is in control right now, you’re still Nightborn. Here, you’re surrounded by Lightblood. Here, you're safe. If the Seed tries to force out, we can sedate it, help you keep it in check. But if you go out there, if you expose yourself to the other Nightborn… They’ll pull you back in.”

Damn him, but he is right. Damien was struggling hard as it was, though he didn’t want anyone to notice. Being close to Mortensen again caused a vortex of emotions inside, from pure rage from what the man did, to a desire to rejoin the others and make love to the night, to the old feelings he had for the man when they first met.

It was all swirling, like a growing tempest, adding oil to the already raging fire.

Aiden placed a hand on his shoulder. “At least let me try. It would only be for a couple of days.”

In a couple of days, the Apocalypse could commence.

“I have to find other leaders.”

“And Mortensen will tell you where,” Aiden said, squeezing his grip. “You can interrogate him as I work on you. It’s like killing two Nightlings with a single blow!”

Damien snorted. “You do know that I’m technically a Nightborn and therefore Nightlings are my children?”

Aiden laughed. “You can adopt a Lumi if you want to.”

Damien shook his head, smiling. He did that too infrequently, just smile. But more smiles were not what the world needed right now. What it needed was for the Nightborn to be dismantled. 

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll stay for a few days.” Aiden was right. Mortensen did hold the information Damien needed. The only trick was getting it out while restraining the rage from slaughtering the man.

“That’s wonderful!” Aiden nodded. 

“But no teeth pulling this time.”

“Hey, I was a dentist before all this.”

The two of them laughed and for a moment Damien felt the fire in him lose a few ambers. 

***

Rachel felt more nervous with each minute. The smell of dust and mold in the library forced her eyes to tear and her throat to dry. Rebeca and Aiden were hunched over a large tome, their eyes darting over the pages. 

They were tracking down her family tree.

“Rachel Kamilah Austen,” Aiden murmured. “Why does that sound so familiar?”

The man’s brow furrowed in thought as he flipped through the pages. 

The police chief raised her eyes from the book. “How far down the tree line do you know your ancestry, Miss Austen?”

“Not that much,” Rachel said, fighting the urge to cough. “I know my great grandparents were from Missouri and I remember my aunt talking about my great-great-grandfather, being a lamplighter.”

“Lamplighter?”

“He was lighting gas lamps in the evenings for a living. This was before electric street lamps.”

“Oh. Aiden?”

“I’m looking it up.”

The two of them seemed excited.

“What?” Rachel squeezed the leather of her chair.

Aiden listed through the tome, his lips moving in silent counting. 

“Stop there,” Rebeca said. “1827. The year of the Missouri massacre.”

“Indeed,” Aiden murmured.

Rachel felt like jumping up from her chair to see what the book said. “What is it?”

Aiden ran his finger down the page, then raised his eyes at Rachel. “Does the name Kamilah Ford sound familiar to you? Or Jedediah Austen?”

Rachel shook her head. “What happened in 1827?”

“The Nightborn and the Lightblood almost joined together,” Rebeca said. “Because of two lovers.”

“Joined? I thought you were enemies.”

“We are,” Aiden said. “For as long as we’ve existed, we’ve been at war due to different ideologies. And different ambitions of our patrons.”

“But there was a time when all those differences were nearly surmounted by two individuals, a Nightborn and a Lightblood, falling in love. A miracle, thought by some. An abomination, by others.”

“What happened to them?”

“They were slaughtered by their respective kin,” Rebeca said, grimacing. “And an all-out war broke out, resulting in many innocent lives lost who got caught in the middle.”

“The story goes like this,” Aiden said. “Jedediah Austen, a Lightblood general fell in love with Kamilah Ford, a Nightborn medium. Against all odds and all the hate between our factions, the two of them showed affection for one another. They were said to have realized our true potential, said to have found the middle ground where we could coexist. But our patrons, the ones who give us our power, do not want peace, Rachel. They want to see the other destroyed. And therefore, we the followers want to see the other group destroyed as well.”

Rachel’s heart sank. So neither side is inherently good.

“In the past, times were different,” Aiden continued. “Tolerance was much lower and our patron’s influence was stronger - which resulted in the massacre. Today, there are some among us, rare as they are, that would strive for peace, despite their patrons.”

“Like me and Aiden,” Rebeca said, exchanging looks with the blonde man. “But since we’re tied to our patron, we cannot do anything to bring forth peace. We don’t have the freedom of choice.”

“Who are these patrons you speak of?”

“For us Lightblood, it is the Revealer,” Aiden said. “An Angel of Truth. And for the Nightborn, it is the Enchanter. A Demon of Lies.”

The air scratched Rachel’s throat, making her cough. Angels and Demons? Despite everything that she saw and heard, she was still surprised when she heard it. Though by now, she should have known better. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in…”

“Were those two lovers my ancestors? Am I their descendant?”

Rebeca and Aiden blinked. Rachel was fed up with secrets and beating around the bushes. She was fed up with not having control over her life anymore.

“It’s possible,” Aiden said. “From what you’ve told us and from your name… Lamp lighting was done for more than just illuminating the streets at night. It was a secretive guild, a branch of Lightblood who roamed the streets, protecting people from the Nightborn.” 

“And the Gift, as well as the Seed, is usually passed down through generations,” Rebeca added. “Though it can be given through other means too.”

Rachel snorted. “So what, I’m a Lightblood? Because I’ve seen you glow, Rebeca?”

“That’s what I thought at first,” Rebeca said, ignoring the sarcasm. “But I think you’re more than that, Rachel. You’ve survived the birth of a Nightling. You’ve seen my light aura. I think you possess gifts of both worlds.” The woman paused, her eyes tense. “I think you might be the one we’ve been waiting for.”

“The one with the Absolute Gene,” Aiden added. “The one to unite us and end the war.”

Rachel stared at them, dumbfounded. “What?!”

“Think about it,” Rebeca said. “Why did Mortensen kidnap you? Why did he spend five years in your presence, before deciding to take you in?”

“Because he’s a fucking creep and a monster!”

“Because he needed to make sure you were the one. He needed to see what lay inside you before he could act.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Is it?” Aiden asked. “Think of your life, Rachel. Your childhood, teenage years, and adulthood. Have there ever been times when you felt or noticed things you couldn’t explain? Things that you did or that you just knew, without knowing how or why you knew them?”

“This-” She could read Damien’s feelings earlier. And knew that Rebeca was holding secrets. But those things were recent, fluke lucks caused by stress. 

Right? 

“I’ve lived a normal life and I’m just a regular person. I work at a bakery to save up money to start a family… which I cannot start because my womb is sterile, yet I gave birth to a monster. Somewhere in the past two weeks the world stopped making sense and began filling my mind with nightmares.” 

I’m rambling. Her mind felt like it was losing its footing. It was just too much, too confusing, and too much.

And then, the whole mansion shook. The window glass vibrated, books fell from the shelves and the furniture rattled.

Aiden and Rebeca erupted with light, like warriors preparing for an incoming threat. Rachel felt her heart thumping, her mind swimming with too many thoughts.

“Was that an earthquake?” she asked, not believing her question. No, not an earthquake. For some reason, just like she could read emotions earlier, her mind told her it could only be Mortensen. He broke from his chains.

She sniffed smoke.

Aiden, eyes shining blue and skin glowing white, stepped to her. “Wait here, Rachel.” He and Rebeca went out of the room before she could plead for them to stay. From the hallway, she could hear other Lightblood shouting and running.

The room shook again, the sound of a muffled explosion reaching her ear.

Oh Damien, she thought, a tear falling from her irritated eyes. Why did you bring him here?

The nightmare was following her wherever she went. She wanted to despair, to curl up in a ball and hide in a corner, hoping that the world would forget about her.

No, a voice said. She startled at the sound - it was her voice, but so strong and resolute that it could just as well be from someone else.

Enough, it said. 

Rachel clenched her jaw. She has been a victim for too long. A victim to her barren womb and slave job, a victim to life’s unforeseen circumstances, a victim to angels and demons exchanging punches over her head while she cowered for safety. 

It is time. 

Rachel stood up. The mansion shook once more, explosion sounding louder, screams rising, but it did not sway her. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

I’m taking back control.

She lingered in the thought.

When she opened her eyes, the whole world changed.