Destined to Kill: A Destined Novel (Destined Novels Book 1) (29 page)

"
Hollywood
," I murmur, realizing now that I must be in some old, unused studio lot. I bound, stealthily, to higher ground and zero in on the object of my interest. He stops inside an arch that blocks my view. Creeping forward, I position myself to get a better look and almost fall from my post at the sight.

There has to be close to one hundred full bloods!
Shit!
This is worse than I thought. How am I, with only
seven
Hunters - virtually newborns themselves - going to compete with this?

"Where is he?" The one I followed here speaks clearly, and oddly enough, with an English accent! Their voices still hold that distinct growl of a Cursed One, but they have certainly evolved.

Are you kidding me? Not only are there far more than I expected, but they are communicating! Forget communicating, they're plotting and planning - and, who knows what else they're doing!

"Off creating more," another answers. They are all dressed nicely. I don't know why I find that odd, but I do. If the men weren't in suits, they wear black jeans, accompanied by a black, long-sleeved shirt. The women - which look to be about half their population - also wear black, with their hair pulled back in severe pony tails. They're an army.

"We do not need more," the first one scoffs. "We are ready!"

"They are mere distractions. For him and for the Hunters." An elder joins the one I followed, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You should not defy him, Nyle."

They have names!

"I will not. I merely want to get this over with so he may live in peace."

"He knows what he is doing. Did you find the Cloaked One with the Hunters?"

My ears perk, and I instinctively reach for my swords.

"No. The Cloaked One has left them to fight for themselves. They are good, Ward. Very good. They have been taught well."

"As have we. Do not worry. The new ones he creates do not possess the skills we do. Their accomplishments mean nothing against them." He smiles - I think it's a smile - and takes Nyle's arm. "Come. It will be light soon. We need to save our strength. The Cloaked One will come, and we will win."

I sit there for a long while after they all leave, retreating inside the faux Colosseum. None of them were aware that I sat there above them, listening. It's almost as baffling as everything I heard them say.
Say
! Clear, concise, intelligent sentences! Okay, so they threatened me and my Hunters, but they did it intelligently! Ward, the elder, had said they had been taught well. What in the hell does
that
mean? In all of my knowledge of Cursed Ones, none of them - us - were
taught
to hunt or kill. It's just instinct. Survival. My mind reels at all of the information I learned tonight.

The horde is great, they communicate, they are trained in
something,
they are ready for my Hunters, and they are nothing if not loyal to their Maker. The odds seem stacked against me and my Society. However, I do have advantages. They cannot detect me, and I know where they are. And, knowing where they are, means I know where their Maker is.

I sneak back into the house, and immediately make my way to my room. I know the others made it back because I can smell them. Good. That's one less thing to worry about.

I carefully fold my cloak, lock it away in the trunk at the end of my bed, and sit with my head in my hands. What am I going to do? I've fought many Cursed Ones in my time, but never this many at the same time. Going in there alone could be suicide. Taking my Hunters with me could mean their death. I can't possibly do that to them. They're so young, just barely starting their lives. No, it is up to me to fix this problem, and keep them out of it. I'm just not confident that I will be triumphant. In fact, I'm scared. After almost six hundred years of life, the possibility of death now stares me in the face. Am I strong enough to confront it? Am I strong enough to leave a love behind that I never thought I'd find?

"
You left Thomas
," I whisper in the empty room. But, that was different. Thomas and I never had a chance to begin before my life changed. With Sam, I'm afraid I've lost my cold heart to him. It hurt to leave Thomas, but the thought of leaving Sam is devastating. I never should have let this happen. I knew what the outcome would be, knew there would never be a future for us. How could I let myself fall...

His scent fills my nostrils, and it's intoxicating. I walk to the door - still in my hunting outfit - and open it to his beautiful, if slightly bewildered face.

"I didn't know if you had made it back..."

I interrupt him by crushing my mouth to his, and pulling him inside directly to my bed.

Even though my kiss is - let's say spirited - he is still gentle with me, easing me down onto the bed.

"Sam, I won't break." I stare into his eyes, willing him to understand what I need from him. "You're not going to hurt me."

He gets the message loud and clear as his kisses become more passionate. He fists his hands in my hair, and tugs my head back to deepen the kiss. This is what I need. Hell, it may be my last night on this earth after so many years of excruciating loneliness. Spending it like this, with Sam, will be worth it.

I unbutton his shirt, slipping it off of him as he deals with the zipper on my suit. It's half way down when I inhale deeply, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

"What is it?" He's breathless, wanting more, but there's concern in his eyes.

"Amanda is here."

Sam groans and rolls off of me as I get up, zip back up and open the door before Amanda can knock.

"Oh! Hey, I didn't even know if you were back, yet. I..."

Amanda looks past me and sees Sam, and her demeanor changes in an instant. She takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring and I know she's angry. But, to her credit she says nothing about him being there.

"Can I speak to you? Alone, please," she asks, tersely.

"Of course." I glance back at Sam.

"I'll meet you in the dining room," Amanda huffs, then turns on her heel and marches down the hall. Great. My potentially last night on earth just got bad.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Sam asks, standing all half-naked and gorgeous in front of me.

"You heard her. She wants to talk alone. Just remember I'm in the dining room if I don't come back for some reason."

"You want me to stay?"

"
Stay
," I whisper, and kiss him briefly before heading to my impending doom. This may be scarier than the horde of Cursed Ones.

"Amanda?"

"Robby called," she begins, holding my attention. "He asked if I would go to the movies with him."

"That's great."

"Tomorrow night. I told him I couldn't. I mean, obviously I can't tell him that I would love to but I have to hunt vampires, so I just made up some stupid excuse. I don't think he's going to wait for me much longer."

"Amanda..."

"Why do you get someone," she interrupts. "Jenna lost her boyfriend, I'm probably losing mine. Why do you get Sam?"

I am at a complete loss as to how to answer her. I haven't had
someone
for a very long time. I'm not even sure she wants an answer from me. I have to avert my eyes because I'm too much of a coward to hold her gaze.

"Forget it," she says quietly. "I asked you in here because I've been going over all of this." She gestures to all of the journals and papers on the table.

Surprise knocks my cowardice out.

"Going over it? How? It's in a different language."

"That's what the internet is for, Ana. I mean, there are all kinds of translators out there." Her temper is still there, but she seems to be thawing out a tiny bit.

"I see. What did you come up with?"

Since I haven't had the chance to go over the journals in depth myself, I'm genuinely curious as to what she's discovered.

"Okay, well, this is just a theory. But, from what I can understand, do you think the Maker could be the Cloaked One?"

"What?" I swear, these Hunters will be the death of me! If I don't get myself killed by a horde of vampires, I may just die of a heart attack. "That's impossible." I should know.

"Hear me out. Bernard was searching for the Cloaked One. So are the Cursed Ones. There has to be a reason." She continues when I say nothing. "Your ancestor, Henry, is said to have had access to Cursed blood, right?"

I nod.

"Bernard assumed that the Cloaked One's blood is what Henry used to create what Jeremy calls the 'youth juice'. If that's true, that must mean the Cloaked One is also Cursed."

Smart girl.

"I mean, if he's back after all these years, if it's the same Cloaked One, then he has to be Cursed, right?"

"Or, the Cloaked One could be using the elixir," I say, carefully.

"Well, I thought of that, but he didn't seem crazy when he saved me."

"Neither did Bernard," I remind her. "But, you bring up another point. The...Cloaked One helps Hunters."

"Exactly! I haven't figured that part out yet, but it would make sense that that's how Henry got his blood. I mean, how else would he have gotten Cursed blood? Unless, it was given to him freely?"

"He could have captured a Cursed One."

"True," she muttered, unconvinced. "But, let's say I'm right, just for argument's sake. Wouldn't that mean that we would have to kill the Cloaked One?"

Hmm.

"I mean, you're looking for the Maker. I think the Cloaked One may be the Maker. Maybe not by choice, or intentionally, but if it's his blood that Bernard stole, that means it's his blood that made Bernard's crop of Cursed Ones."

Well, hell. I sit heavily in a chair and thought now about how my chest hurt when I would stake a Hybrid, or full blood. I thought about how my head pounded when I shot the Hybrid I had brought in for my Hunters to see. Absently, I touch my chest. She has to be right.

"Ana? Are you okay?"

"Just thinking."

"So, I could be right?"

Amanda looks frightened, like she wants desperately for me to tell her no.

I nod.

"The Cloaked One saved my life," she says softly. "Will killing the Cloaked One get rid of the others, or return them to normal?"

I give her a puzzled look. "Did you see that in a movie?"

"The Lost Boys," she answers, sheepishly, and shrugs.

I give her a small smile. "No."

"Do you know that for sure?"

I open my mouth to answer, then close it again. No, I don't know that for sure. It certainly seems plausible if I can feel their pain. But, I just can't believe that would be true. I killed the one that made me, and most certainly his Maker. If it were true, wouldn't I have changed? Or died?

"I'm sure," I say decisively. "The Cloaked One can't be the true Maker. If that blood was used, it was only used to make one. That one then made others. So, he would be the true Maker."

"But, the blood line begins with the Cloaked One," Amanda argues.

She's right. Which means what I've feared all along is true. Bernard may have done this, but the fault is mine. My parents' death, this new outbreak, it's all because of me being distracted for one moment that fateful day. And, still being alive today.