Distract my hunger (12 page)

I was flabbergasted, I couldn’t even dry my tears. It was so unfair that a killing spree fell upon innocent vampires because this so called “Council” wanted to ensure their supremacy.

Jonathan wiped my tears with his thumb and looked at me with the most endearing eyes. I would have kissed him on the spot if I didn’t feel so heartbroken. He seemed on the verge of tears too and I realized I had been broadcasting what I read.

“It’s so awful.” I said and I finally let myself fall into Jonathan’s protective embrace. His strong arms circled me, I felt safe in them and the depressed feeling seemed to recede a bit. He smelled sweet and secure, just like home. I nuzzled against his shoulder letting out a sigh and a repressed shudder and freed myself from the nesting arms.

I looked at Corbin, he was lost somewhere in his thoughts completely motionless. His face was a mask of pain, deep down, the notebook seemed to have affected him as much as it did me. He looked as if all of this was new to him, he seemed to be quite clueless of the whole matter.

“That’s why ancients are so scarce, right?” I asked and not waiting for an answer continued, “They killed them, and I was supposed to have been killed at birth too.”

Nobody answered, nobody moved. They were much too hurt or baffled to speak yet their silence was like a huge nod. I knew I was right, I was supposed to die by law. Die for having deep purple eyes and die for probably being the child of two ancients. If Jonathan’s clan were to follow the law, I should be executed, yet I somehow was sure that they had decided to move outside the laws and guard my life. I felt so thankful upon realizing that, I owed them much more than I could ever pay back.

Lucrecia had been wrong, it wasn’t that many ancients decided not to have children: it was that they would be on death-row if they did.

“I knew legends about a council existing above all vampires, but I had no idea how complex the whole thing was . . .” said Corbin still lost in his thoughts.

This notebook was much more controversial than what I expected, and as much a weapon as Corbin had made it look like. It could start a war, and it most probably would.

“Please keep on reading Iris” Corbin said, and as if preparing for the worst, took hold of his copper claymore and sat on the bed. With his hands on the sword’s handle and his head bowed he looked as much as a guardian angel as any picture I ever saw.

I pressed my lips into a tight smile and almost unwillingly gave him a nod. Then reluctantly I looked back at the hand-written book in my hands and began to read another entry.

“Oh
Goddess,
what
have
I
done?
The
blood-stench
will
never
leave
my
blood-stained
hands.

We
butchered
them.
We
killed
thousands
of
our
kind.

Any
newborn
whose
parents
were
ancients
became
the
sheath
of
our
swords
and
those
who
tried
to
stop
us
were
killed
too.

Too
much
blood
was
spilled
today,
we
are
faster
and
stronger
that
any
other
ancient,
and
they
were
unprepared.
They
were
unexpecting
prays
to
trained
hounds;
they
had
no
chance
against
our
blades.

Aidan’s
blood-thirsty
ways
showed
no
mercy.
We
ended
up
killing
almost
anyone
that
crossed
our
way.
I
don’t
believe
many
ancients
remain
after
today
and
many
strong
inheritors
also
lost
their
life
in
vain.

We
murdered
them,
and
I
did
nothing
to
stop
them.

Liam
was
completely
blood-crazed.
He
swung
his
sword
at
almost
any
vampire
he
encountered
and
took
pleasure
in
the
slowest
and
most
painful
deaths.

His
eyes
glowed
with
his
desire
to
exterminate
anything
that
could
get
in
his
way,
and
maybe,
he
is
even
more
demented
than
Aidan.
At
least
Aidan’s
merciless
killing
was
less
cruel
and
more
“noble”
(if
I
can
even
call
it
that)
than
his.
Liam
never
cared
who
he
was
killing
and
didn’t
even
mind
that
some
of
his
victims
where
not
breaking
the
law.

There’s
a
terrible
image
that
will
haunt
me
till
my
end.
I
still
close
my
eyes
and
have
it
burned
in
my
mind.
I
see
Liam’s
raged,
almost
black
eyes
staring
at
a
kid.
She
is
a
small
girl
of
about
seven,
with
her
strawberry
blonde
hair
in
two
plats.
Her
tiny
hand
is
holding
a
tattered
doll
and
she
is
dancing
at
her
small
cottage
door.
Her
dirty-white
apron
sways
over
her
blue
woollen
dress
and
she
seems
to
have
no
clue
of
what
is
going
on.
He
runs
at
her,
with
his
hands
outstretched
like
claws
and
grabs
her
by
her
shoulders.
She
never
fights
him
back,
she
seems
as
limp
as
her
doll
in
his
grip
and
he
shears
her
throat
with
one
of
his
hands.
Then
he
licks
the
blood
oozing
from
her
severed
throat
like
a
hungry
cat.
There
still
seems
to
be
some
life
in
her
unfortunate
body
when
he
tosses
her
at
Gwen
who
mimics
his
cat-like
attitude
and
finishes
draining
the
feeble
soul.

The
poor
girl
didn’t
even
seem
to
be
an
ancient,
she
was
probably
a
mere
mild-inheritor,
but
little
did
Liam
care
about
that.
His
desire
to
kill
seemed
to
excuse
anything
at
all.
After
that
awful
death,
his
brown
hair
clung
to
his
temples
full
of
the
girl’s
blood.

Gwen
on
the
other
and
did
not
surprise
me
at
all.
She
had
always
been
cold-hearted
and
lethal.
She
was
actually
the
one
that
proposed
killing
any
ancients
who
even
had
a
relationship
with
another
ancient.
Ruthless
was
her
synonym,
and
our
killing-spree
convinced
me
not
to
ever
let
her
out
of
my
sight.
She
would
probably
backstab
me
(or
any
of
us)
at
the
mere
opportunity.

I
attribute
part
of
her
lethalness
to
her
looks,
for
she
looks
anything
else
but
lethal.
She
is
very
petite
and
almost
fragile
looking.
Her
delicate
features
make
anyone
think
more
of
an
angel
than
a
lethal
being,
but
she
is
nothing
more
opposite
than
an
angel
indeed.
Her
sweet
blue-green
eyes
seem
to
smile
gaily
at
everyone,
for
she
is
constantly
smiling
with
her
plump
pink
pout.
Her
cherub-like
hair
is
fine
like
a
child’s
and
falls
in
a
dazzling
cascade
of
long
blonde
curls
that
she
generally
keeps
in
a
braid.
Nobody
could
possibly
believe
that
such
a
minute,
darling-looking
creature
could
be
dangerous
but
her
deceitful
self
is
much
more
than
that;
she
is
deadly.