Shifters Gone Alpha (19 page)

Chapter Two

Darkness Rises

Antoine awoke screaming. Pain wracked every inch of his body, inside and out. His skin burned all over as if being branded. The flames licked him from within, too, like volcanic lava flowing through his veins.

Death would be better than this.

The agony continued for what felt like a century, zapping all his energy. He collapsed onto the bed and back into darkness.

When he woke again, he swallowed. The searing pain was gone, but his throat was parched. He opened his eyes to search for water.

Where was he? The room was unfamiliar. A dark wood table caught his attention as he became enthralled with the fine grain details in the wood.

What was happening? Gargoyles had remarkable vision but not this acute where they could pinpoint such tiny details.

“No!” He bolted upright, remembering the attack.

Laughter drifted in from another room. The female vampire entered followed by one of the males.

“You wake anew,” the female said, eyes glowing with evil mirth. “Gargoyle turned vampire.”

He jumped out of bed. It couldn’t be true. A nightmare like none other. “You lie!”

“Do I?” she raised a brow. “We’ll see when the thirst hits you.”

No, no, never, no.

He repeated it in his head, wishing it would make it true.

“You should thank us,” she said, moving closer. “You’ll never have to sit out there in stone. Protecting those pathetic humans.” She ran her finger over his cock. “Although I would like some parts of you still hard. We will have to become more acquainted very soon. I’m Natalie.”

He didn’t care who she was. “Get off me.” He flung her arm away with force he couldn’t believe. If she were human, she would have broken against the wall, but she recovered fast enough to flip midway in the air and sprang back on her feet, like a feline.

She hissed, coming at him with exposed fangs. The other vampires pinned him down, all with fangs bared as well.

“I wouldn’t do anything like that again,” she said. “You need us now. To show you the way.”

Antoine struggled against the arms holding him down, but even with his new strength, it was futile. “Why have you done this?” he snarled.

She shrugged. “To see what would happen. Gargoyle strength is legendary. Combine it with vampire blood and we’d have a formidable warrior on our side.”

“I’d never fight for you.”

Antoine willed the force to initiate the change to his stone form, but nothing happened. His skin didn’t harden and turn gray. His features didn’t distort grotesquely. And the wings. His beautiful wings. Gone. Nothing emerged from his shoulder blades.

A shudder tore through him. He closed his eyes. There had to be a way out, a way back to what he was.

It was impossible. They’d drained him of his blood. Who knew what else they’d done to transform him.

He examined the vampires restraining him as horror filled him. The predatory glimmer in their eyes chilled him, reflecting his existence from this point on—bloodthirsty, ravening, savage.

They’d stolen his life.

And rebirthed him as a monster.

The moment darkness fell, Antoine slipped away from the still sleeping vampires. He traveled to a forest near Bois de Boulogne, on the eastern outskirts of Paris where most of his gargoyle clan had moved to, although some still remained near Notre Dame. With his acute vampire eyesight, he watched the activity in the cluster of cottages from afar, where they wouldn’t sense him.

Most were in their human form as it was safer that way in a world increasingly populated by people with a fear of anything supernatural. Centuries before, supes and humans lived together, but times had changed. Gargoyles now hid themselves in plain sight, either in human form or watching as stone statues. They continued to protect people who would likely try to destroy them if they knew of their existence. A cruel twist of irony.

Two caught Antoine’s attention—they were in gargoyle form with tough, gray skin, and black featured wings. Wings. He looked over his shoulder where his own had once unfurled behind him like a glorious cape. How he’d loved to fly by night, shielding himself with magic to soar over the city of Paris. He’d search for a way back to his gargoyle shifter nature although his gut told him it was no use. That part of his life was gone forever.

He treaded with light steps, avoiding any crunching leaves or twigs to give him away, so he could move to a vantage point to see his parents’ cottage. After an hour, they emerged, both in human form discussing something inaudible as they walked side by side. He stepped forward, wanting to go to them, but was stopped by cruel reality. He couldn’t go to them like this. Not as this cursed form, the undead. The shame would be unbearable. A dull ache spread through him, echoing his loss.

Revealing what had happened would destroy the peace between gargoyles and vampires. They’d established a tentative truce. Vampires couldn’t drink from the innocent and they had to control their bloodlust and not kill. If the gargoyles discovered what they’d done to Antoine, it would lead to an all-out battle between the clans—one with staggering ramifications. Many of his loved ones could be killed.

But what if the vampires planned to attack other gargoyles and make some sort of hybrid army? No, he could never let that happen. He’d watch the vampires to gain insight into their plans.

It was better if his clan thought he was dead. He’d send word that he was killed in some sort of accident—but not one they could blame themselves for. Since his parents had encouraged him to move to Paris to work on his art, they would shoulder the guilt. He’d have to figure that out later, when he could think straight.

A strong breezed ruffled the leaves where he stood, moving to the direction of his parents. He couldn’t let them catch his scent. God only knows what it was like now with vampire and gargoyle mixed. He ran through the forest with quicker speed than before he’d been turned. The ache magnified to a point where he wanted to cry out, but he stifled the urge. This might be the last time he’d see his family and his clan.

Antoine stumbled into his studio and saw the sculpture that he’d completed, what he’d been so proud of before he was attacked. Now he’d never be able to present it to anyone. The grotesque figure next to the beautiful woman mocked him with its contorted smile. Antoine could never shift to his gargoyle form again. And what woman would want him now? He no longer looked like a monster, but he was one in every way. He roared as he fell onto the table with his supplies and his fingers touched a chisel.

He picked it up and slashed at the marble. It made a dent, but nothing more. Searching for something more substantial, he spotted a mallet. He grabbed it and swung it at the crouched figure, feeling immense satisfaction as the marble smashed into pieces and fell shattered onto the floor. His gargoyle strength was amplified with vampire blood and he crushed pieces of the marble in his hand, letting the dust float down between his fingers.

As he destroyed the rest of his work, a hunger grew in him. He tried to ignore it, but it became unbearable where he thought of nothing else but sating his appetite. He struggled against it as he pounded the narrow cobblestone paths between the buildings in Montmartre. A human passed him from the opposite direction. The bloodlust was too powerful, and Antoine gave in to it, succumbing to his survival instinct. He sank his fangs into the male’s neck. As the warm blood flowed over his tongue, it ignited a thousand pleasurable taste buds, which made him suck all the more. The man struggled at first, calling out and punching at him, but soon relaxed. Minutes passed before he collapsed onto the cobblestone.

Antoine stared down at his victim, whose eyes now stared unblinking into the void of the starless night. He’d killed him. This human who had simply been in the wrong area at the wrong time in one of the narrow streets of Montmartre lay dead at his feet. Killed by Antoine’s hands.

He cried out as he fell to his knees beside his victim, dropping his head into his hands. Red-tinged tears fell onto the cobblestone. He was a murderer.

The death almost destroyed him as well, going against his nature. Gargoyles protected humans from the evil in the world. No matter what the vampires had done to his body, he still thought like one.

Now, he was the evil the gargoyles fought against.

Self-loathing reached epic proportions. He couldn’t live in this tortured existence. Rising to his feet, he stumbled down the hill, away from the corpse. In the distance, he spotted the controversial tower being built for the World Fair and continued toward it. Climbing to the top of the unfinished structure, he glanced down at the city he loved. He had to end it now.

Antoine took a deep breath and exhaled. Soon his suffering would end. He stepped off the ledge.

Merciful death didn’t come. Only pain. Epic pain from bones breaking and flesh torn from the impact. Unable to move to provide any sort of relief, he remained where he’d landed. The agony exacerbated when bone and muscle moved inside him. He cried out as they shifted and moved back into position. Within minutes, his shattered body had reformed and all discomfort was gone. He glanced at his limbs and torso with wonder. It was as if he had never jumped, which confirmed one thing— he was immortal.

The undead. Cursed to walk the earth and prey on humans. While he stumbled to his feet, he planned his next step. Face the sunlight.

He stayed out all night, walking the streets of Paris. He stayed far from Notre Dame so the gargoyle shifters who guarded the city from above would not recognize him and witness the ghastly, undead creature he’d become. A light mist fell, and the glow of the streetlamps reflected in tiny droplets on the cobblestone. A glimmer of pink light emerged from the darkness on the horizon. This was it. Soon, the sun would rise in its radiance and burn him into nothingness.

Natalie found him and pulled him into a building, back into the safety of darkness.

“I gave you the gift of eternal life,” she spat. “And you want to throw it away?”

“Gift? You madwoman. You cursed me! Turned me against everything I’ve known and hold to be true.”

“Do you know what people would sacrifice to have what I’ve given you?” she retorted in an icy tone. “How many
humans,
who you feel so compelled to protect, would embrace immortality and not flinch before taking your blood.”

“No, I don’t. I wouldn’t have made this choice.” His body heated quickly with his growing rage. “You decided for me.” He stormed from her into a dark, empty room and slammed the door.

Despite Antoine’s loathing for the vampires of Montmartre, they were all he had. He relied on them to guide him in the new ways. Who else did he have? No one. Without them, he’d be alone. A gargoyle turned vampire, most likely the only one in the world.

He fumbled in his attempts to drink without killing a few more times as he adjusted to his new fate, and each time the guilt drove him to attempt to meet the sun. The vampires of Montmartre stopped him. After teaching him how to control the bloodlust to avoid taking life, they redirected him to practice feeding on criminals. Many were often drunk or drugged and didn’t know whether Antoine was real or a hallucination. Their blood was tainted by whatever they’d ingested, but what did it matter how much of their contaminated blood he drank? Alcohol and drugs didn’t affect him the same way as humans. They never had due to his gargoyle nature. Suicidal thoughts diminished as Antoine learned to feed without killing.

Natalie taught him how to fly again, only this time without wings. The sensation was different—he propelled through the air magically somehow, as natural as walking. Although the loss of his beautiful wings still pained him, at least he could fly and watch over his beloved city once again by night.

Antoine lived and hunted with the clan, but refused to take another human life and insisted they not do so either. “I haven’t told the gargoyles what you’ve done to me, but if you kill humans, you know what will happen.”

Natalie raised her chin, well aware of the danger if the gargoyles and vampires began a war. “What do you care whether humans live or die?” she asked. “Their lives are so short. No difference than stamping out an insect.”

“How could you think that?” He responded. “You were once human yourself. Have you forgotten what you were?”

“That was a lifetime ago, Antoine. If I’d remained human, I’d be decayed in the earth by now.”

Antoine stayed with the Montmartre vampires, partly to spy on them and protect the gargoyles and partly because he had nowhere else to go. Years flew by in a flash. Time didn’t pass as slowly for vampires as it did for humans, the nature of immortality. Once the vampires discovered Antoine wouldn’t be their submissive bodyguard, using his strength to protect them, the novelty of having a gargoyle in their clan passed. Antoine learned what he could from them to survive immortality.

Roger was the one who handled their living arrangements as well as their assets.

“How do you manage it?” he asked Roger.

“I invest in properties we live in until it might begin to look suspicious when we don’t age. Once we move on, I rent it out. We’ve acquired a number of properties over the years that have yielded profits, despite the dips in the market.”