PROLOGUE
Proudly did I sit upon my throne, a seat forged from blood and bone.
My skin marred with evidence of war, I was scarred and bruised. I was wounded and battered but it was a war I would never lose. The taste of blood on my lips, my fangs were sharpened by flesh. Eyes flashing with moonlight, a wolf howled inside my chest.
They made me a ruler and a King, I made them suffer and bleed. Feared more than fear itself, I was born to lead.
The moment I saw her, my eyes filled with fear. She scared me more than my demons, for them I learned to bear. Her eyes were wild with hope, although I knew it wouldn’t be long until she knew me for the monster I was. Fate had finally done wrong.
She could never know, I would hide it well. For how could she learn to love a monster that could never love himself?
Ella’s P. O. V.
“Your grandfather is dead.”
Those were words I never wanted to hear, but had been anticipating for too long.
Those words were the reason that I sat on a plane flying above German farmland, on my way to arrange a funeral I didn’t want to attend.
I felt someone nudge my arm and I opened my eyes to see my older brother, Zak, staring at me. I took out my headphones, even though he didn’t speak verbally. He pointed to the date window on his watch.
November 12th.
”Happy twenty-third birthday, ” he signed, smiling.
I sighed. ”It doesn’t feel like a happy birthday, ” I signed back, my shaky fingers displaying just how exhausted I was.
Zak sat forward and pulled something from his backpack. I noticed as he handed it to me that it was a bag of peanut m&ms, my favorite kind of candy.
He winked at me before leaning back in his seat.
I opened the bag and poured out a handful and handed them to him. He took them gladly.
”How are you?” Zak asked me once he finished them off. His sharp eyes had been studying me the entire trip.
He knew the answer.
I nodded, signing that I was fine. I looked past him to my mom and dad, who sat in the middle row. Her tear-stained, red-rimmed eyes were staring blankly at the back of the seat in front of her. I sighed, knowing how hard she was probably taking her father’s death. They had been close, especially after my grandmother died when she was young.
My mother and father were both German and moved to the United States after they were married.
After I was born, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer and my grandfather quit his job and moved to Florida to help take care of her since my dad worked all the time.
The man practically raised me After he moved back to Germany, he fell ill and was unable to come back to see us. We had only made a few trips to see him
since that time.
I couldn’t believe he was gone.
I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the sad thoughts. I looked back out the window as my eyes filled with tears, blurring the sight of the setting sun.
It was late into the evening when the plane landed in Frankfurt.
We got a rental car and drove a little over an hour into the country to my grandfather’s cottage. Driving up to the cottage was hard. I was used to the porch light being on, ushering us up to the house. This time the house was dark and uninviting.
As we got out of the car, I took my luggage and wheeled it up to the side door. I could hear Remi, my grandfather’s Schnauzer, barking as I retrieved the key from underneath the doormat.
I unlocked the door and flipped on the light.
Remi trotted over and sniffed me, her tail wagging quickly. I smiled grimly as I leaned down to run my fingers through her fur, which had grayed since I’d seen her last.
Zak came in behind me, his suitcase and backpack hitting the doorway as he squeezed his way inside. In that moment, he looked more like an eight-year-old boy than a twenty-six-year-old man.
“Would you mind turning on some lights?” My mom asked as she came in.
I stood up and walked into the den and turned on a few lamps. Taking a deep breath and fighting tears as I looked around the room, I made my way upstairs to the guest bedroom that I normally stayed in.
Everything was the same as it always had been.
The green walls hadn’t been painted in decades and the dusty, floral curtains were in serious need of being replaced. The wooden floor squeaked under the pressure of my footsteps as I made my way across the room to turn on the lamp. The lightbulb blew as I did so and I sighed, my mind continuing to turn over every worry and sad thought in darkness.
I sat my suitcase down on the floor and laid down over the duvet. Soon, the jet lag caught up to me and I drifted off into a restless sleep.
The next day was no better than the last, except for the first few moments when I woke up and had forgotten where I was and why I was there.
That blissful ignorance soon disappeared as I heard my mother’s voice floating up the stairs. I got out of bed and went downstairs. My mother and father were both sitting at the old, oak dinner table clutching steaming cups of coffee.
“Good morning,” she said. It sounded more obligatory than it did loving.
“Good morning” I returned, stopping short from asking her how she was. I knew how she was.
“We’re going to the mortuary in a while to make arrangements, she informed me. “You’re more than welcome to come. ”
I fought back tears as I poured myself a cup of coffee. “I’ll pass.”
The kitchen was quiet as I poured cream into the coffee and stirred it. I picked the mug up from the counter and held it tightly. The warmth from the ceramic cup was a stark contrast to the cool air in the house.
“I want to have the funeral here.” she said softly Looking up from my drink, I saw my dad reach across the table and take her hand in his as he nodded reassuringly.
“It sounds like a good idea,” he said, giving her a grim smile.
I looked around small cottage with apprehension. It was far too small to hold a funeral, but I wasn’t going to argue with my mom about it. It was her decision to make.
“Stop it,” she said.
I snapped out of a trance to find myself looking at her as she returned the stare. “What?”
“Stop looking at me like that,” she said defensively.
I fumbled over my words. “Like what?” I asked, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
“Like you’re assessing which stage of grief I’m entering,” she snapped.
My mother stood from the table quickly, the chair sliding loudly against the wooden floor as she did so. I watched in disbelief as she stomped up the stairs.
I looked to my dad, who still sat at the dining table, and he sighed and shook his head as he took another sip of coffee.
“I wasn’t,” I said defensively. “You were.”
He stood up and placed his mug in the sink and began to rinse it out.
“I understand that you see this stuff every day and you study it in school—”
I began to speak but he raised a hand to stop me.
“—but don’t negate your mother’s feelings or brush it off like you would a client. He was your grandfather, try not to reason your way out of grieving yourself.”
With those words he walked away and left me to stand in a cold kitchen holding a steaming cup of coffee. I shook my head as I placed the mug on the counter and crossed my arms. I tried to take his words at face value, understanding he had said them to help me.
But it still stung.
As a second-year graduate student who was studying
counseling, I was familiar with grief and loss. I interned at a practice that had people dealing with those two things walk through the doors every day.
I wasn’t negating her feelings, but I would admit that I was assessing them.
Huffing, I came to the conclusion that my father was right and I reached out to grab the mug and take a sip of my coffee. I heard someone coming down the stairs and I prepared an apology before turning around to see it was only Zak.
He pointed up the stairs with a questioning look on his face and I just shook my head, not wanting to explain what had happened.
He shrugged and came over to pour himself coffee.
I sat down at the dining table and he followed suit, drinking his coffee black. I grimaced at the thought.
He looked at me, knowing I wanted to talk about something.
I sighed and placed the mug on the table.
”Do you think I overanalyze things?” I asked him.
He fought back laughter as he placed his own mug down and signed back. ”You asking me that proves that you do.”
I scoffed and rolled my eyes as he laughed.
“You’re lucky,” I signed. ”You don’t have to deal with people. You don’t have to deal with emotions.”
Zak was a data analyst for the military. He looked at computers ball day, every day.
”Psychology was your choice,” he reminded me.
I sighed.
Why does everyone in my family make valid points at inopportune times? We finished our coffee in silence and watched as our parents left for the mortuary. After they left, I began to clean, knowing there would be well over a hundred people in that house in the next days.
Zak helped at first, but ended up on the couch reading through my grandfather’s old books.
Noticing a few things in the house that took up space like unnecessary plants and space heaters, I took it upon myself to take them up to the attic to make room for the guests that would be filling the space soon.
I carried one of the large space heaters up two flights of stairs band into the attic, dropping it with a thud once I crossed the doorway.
“Thanks for the help, Zak,” I muttered sarcastically, rubbing the muscle in my back I was sure I had pulled carrying the heavy equipment.
I looked around the dusty attic, my eye drawing to the part that wasn’t so dusty. I walked over to the bookshelf that was lined with old books, most of which didn’t look like they had been opened in years. But there were three books on the second shelf that were dust-free and looked like they had been read recently.
My eyebrows furrowed, remembering the bookshelves in my grandfather’s living room.
Why wouldn’t he keep books that he was reading downstairs?
Feeling particularly nosey, I pulled one of the books down and looked it over. It had an olive green-colored cover with gold and black depictions drawn all over it. The edges of the pages were bright
red and worn, so I knew it was a book that had been thumbed through frequently. I turned it over to look at the title and snickered at what I read: The Occult Truth of Lycanthropy.
“The old man always did have an active imagination,” I muttered under my breath, smiling as I put the book back on the shelf.
I wiped dust from my hands onto my jeans and turned the attic blight off as I left the room. I could hear the sound of my parent’s car driving up the path
and all thought of the book was gone as I made my way downstairs.
The next day, the casket containing my grandfather’s body was brought to the house, along with several arrangements of sympathy flowers that were placed around the house strategically by my mother.
We all showered and got ready to receive guests.
I wore an itchy, black shift dress with a pair of l God-awful black pantyhose. I put a long, burgundy cardigan over the dress so Ibcould stay warm in the house and a pair of black riding boots that hid the warm, rainbow-colored fuzzy socks on my feet.
I was on my way down the stairs when I heard the doorbell ring and I stopped. The sound of guests speaking German to my mother as theybarrived early for the funeral filled the foyer.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. You can do this, Ella.
They’re just old people.
I hated old people, especially those that I was somehow distantly related to. They always claim to remember you when you were two or three, or some other embarrassing age, and they can never believe how much you look like your mother.
I couldn’t stand it.
Zak, on the other hand, loved the attention. Unfortunately, there were always a few that never gave him the right kind of attention.
As the evening progressed and more and more people arrived, Ibwas weaving my way through a sea of white hair and a cloud of century-old cologne when I heard it.
It was the sound of a man raising his voice in German. I looked to see where it was coming from and I felt a wave of anger rush over me as I realized he was speaking to Zak.
Walking over quickly, I put myself between Zak and the olderbman whose finger was in Zak’s face.
“He’s Deaf, sir. He can’t hear your voice at any volume, so pleasebquiet down,” I said, speaking what German my parents hadbtaught me.
“He’s ignoring me!” The man shouted, ignoring my request. I rolled my eyes.
“No,” I corrected again. “He can’t hear you.”
“He’s stupid then,” the man said angrily.
I raised an eyebrow. “Communication is ninety-three percent non-verbal,” I said. “Just because he can’t communicate the way you’d like him tobfor the remaining seven percent, does not make him stupid.”
“Besides,” I said, switching to English. “You can’t understand me now. Does that make you stupid?”
The man looked at me with furrowed eyebrows before dismissively waving his hand and walking away.
“Small-minded asshole.” I muttered as he walked away.
Zak gave me an amused smile and I shook my head.
I envied him for not letting things get under his skin.
I almost began to sign to him before something caught my eye. In the crowd of aging people, there was a group of five menbthat I hadn’t noticed before.
Built like soldiers, they were dressed in tailored black suits and they immediately stood out because of their age. I didn’t figurebthey were any older than their early thirties
They watched the crowd with sharp eyes that made me curious. I wondered who they were, and, more importantly, how they knew my grandfather. They made their way through the crowd, getting closer and closer to the casket that sat on the other side of the room Walking slowly, keeping myself parallel with them, I was tryingbmy hardest to be inconspicuous.
I was so focused that my mother’s voice cutting through thebcrowd frightened me.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said in her native language.
The men stopped walking as everyone turned their attention to my mother.
“My family and I thank you for your condolences,” she continued, placing her hand over her heart for emphasis. “Before we begin the funeral, we would like to open the casketband allow everyone the opportunity to say their goodbyes to abwonderful man.
My mother and father motioned for Zak and I to meet them inbfront of the casket, I assumed to welcome everyone and givebhugs to complete strangers.
I made my way through the crowd and over to them
Once we were all gathered, my father reached out and openedbthe casket.
I froze as my mother screamed.
The man in the casket was not my grandfather.
As soon as this realization hit me, his eyes opened.
——–
CHAPTER 1
Jesus Christ.
I took a few startled steps backwards as I heard everyone around me gasp in horror. The man in the casket began to sit up, causing everyone to scatter.
He was in his mid-thirties, significantly younger than my grandfather. He had black, shoulder-length hair and skin so pale he could have passed for dead if he had kept his eyes closed.
The moment his dark eyes locked on mine, I felt a hard body run into the back of me and I fell into someone who was running past me.
I looked over my shoulder to see the men I had previously noticed fighting against the crowd to get closer to the casket. Their haste meant they knew something about it, and it was because of that that I watched them intently as the room around us panicked.
One of them, an Eastern Asian guy with dark, coiffed hair and black stud earrings, pushed his way to the front.
I saw a momentary flash of fear in the beady eyes of the man in the casket before he swung his legs over the side and tried to run.
The Asian man, who looked to be in his mid-twenties, reached his arm out and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. They fought against one another for a moment as everyonebaround them struggled to get away. The younger guy finally got his hands around the other’s neck and he snapped it.
I gasped and fell backwards against someone running awaybbehind me.
The others in the group of men in suits finally pushed their way forward and they all hovered together as they too began to exit the house, taking the corpse with them. I watched in annoyance as I stood on the other side of the room from the front door, a panicking crowd of people were now in
between me and the unknown man.
I needed to know what was going on and where my grandfather was.
Looking around the room quickly, I noticed the window behind the dining room table was big enough for my body to slip through.
Using the commotion as cover, I moved quickly through the crowd and ducked around the furniture.
I made it to the window and slid it up. With the noise in the room, no one noticed the squeaking of the old window and I jumped out inconspicuously.
It was about three feet from the window to the snow-covered ground and I landed hard, but on my feet.
I turned to close the window behind me, knowing someone would notice the cold breeze coming in, when I saw Zak standing there looking down on me.
I could tell he didn’t approve, but he made no effort to stop me.
”Don’t tell Mom,” I signed. “I’ll be back.”
“Be careful,” was all he signed before he threw me his jacket andbclosed the window.
I stomped through several inches of snow before I rounded the corner of the cottage and saw the men stuffing the now-actually dead man into the back of a black SUV.
Seeing the SUV, I immediately began to assume they were government workers. Although, even with this assumptionbnothing else made sense.
I opened the car door of my grandfather’s truck and pulledbdown the visor as I hopped into the seat. The keys fell into my lap and I prayed the truck would start as I slid them into the ignition. I turned the key and nothing happened. That’s when I saw the
stick shift.
Welcome to Europe, I thought.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had driven a car with a manual transmission, so this was bound to be a disaster. I panicked seeing the SUV pull out of the driveway and onto the road and I hit the clutch as I turned the key.
The car stalled out and I groaned.
Trying one more time, I restarted the truck and it roared to life I sighed in relief as I saw the indicator that the tank had plenty of gas.
I pulled out onto the driveway and down the road, following the SUV from a distance.
You’re an idiot, I thought to myself. You don’t know where they’re going and you don’t know how to get back here once you get there.
I shoved reasoning to the back of my brain as I changed gears. The sun began to set, worrying me slightly. I followed the car from a distance for a while until it was dark. I almost turned around, giving up, until the SUV turned down a long path.
About half a mile from the road was the tree line into a forest, which was the direction the SUV was heading. This night could not get any creepier.
There was no one else on the road, so I drove past the pathway and did a u-turn, turning off my headlights.
I inched forward on the road, watching as the SUV’s taillights disappeared into the thick trees. I turned onto the path, my anxiety shooting through the roof.
What are you thinking?
I shook the thoughts away. I knew I needed answers and this was the only way I saw myself getting them.
About halfway down the path, I found a small clearing big enough to park the truck where no one would see it. I didn’t know what was on the other side of that path and I didn’t want to literally drive straight into it.
I parked the truck and got out, wrapping Zak’s jacket around me tighter. I walked along the path, hidden by the trees. The sun had set and I was trying to walk quickly, hoping there wasn’t too much farther to go.
I wasn’t afraid of the dark, but I hated nature.
I took a deep breath and huffed as I nearly tripped over a fallen limb.
There were lights that I saw ahead of me and I slowed my pace as I noticed the large cabin with several SUVs like the one I’d followed that were parked outside.
I hid behind a large tree trunk as I watched the men in suits walking around, joined by a few men that had come out of the cabin.
There was no sign of the body of the man who had been in my grandfather’s casket.
I watched with frozen toes and fingers as everyone went inside the cabin. Once I was sure that evervone was inside. I came out of my hiding place. I walked up to the cabin slowly, weaving in between vehicles.
Every time I walked, I heard the crunch of snow under my boots. I was scared someone else would hear it.
I got up to the cabin and I went to the closest window I could find.
I peeked inside to see a lit fireplace, which was the only source of light in the empty room. Suddenly, a shadow passed by the window and I dropped to my
knees.
“Shit,” I muttered.
A few long moments went by and I felt my heart pounding inbmy chest. This was a stupid idea, go back home, I told myself. This time I didn’t push the thought away. I used it to motivate me to move.
I stood up and moved away from the window slowly.
“What are you doing?”
The deep voice cut through the silence, nearly stopping my heart. I turned around so quickly that my foot slid out from under me and I fell back into a bush that was behind me. I felt a spider web fall into my face and I began to spit and sputter as I swatted it out of my face.
Arachnophobic didn’t even begin to explain how I felt about spiders.
I stood up quickly, all thought of a spider disappearing when I remembered the man standing in front of me. I looked at him, my eyebrows immediately furrowing I couldn’t see him, only a large, shadowy outline standing a few feet away from the light the window provided. I knew he was waiting for an answer, but I was too shocked to
give one. I was half astonished at his German and half astonished that I’d been snuck up on so easily.
I fumbled over my words for a moment before he sighed.
“What are you doing here?”
I took a deep breath, feeling my hands shaking. “That man was in my grandfather’s casket,” I said, speaking in English.
He was silent for a few moments before replying in English as well.
“You’re the granddaughter of Otto Müller.”
It sounded more like a statement than it did a question, but I nodded nonetheless.
We were quiet for a few moments before I finally got up thebcourage to ask a question.
“Where is he?”
He didn’t answer me and I began to feel like it wasn’t such abbad idea to run away.
“Come inside, I’m sure you’re cold.”
I was freezing, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to go inside the cabin. I didn’t know whether I would come back out. There was a piece of me that wanted to trust him, oddly enough, and I couldn’t shake it.
I followed him around the house, staring at his back as he led me up the stairs to the side door. He was almost a foot taller than me and I guessed almost a
hundred pounds heavier unless he had several layers under his coat.
I turned to look at him as he did so. I gulped.
He was a lot better looking in the light than I had expected him to be. As he took off his coat I came to the conclusion he hadn’tblayered and he was indeed built like a brick house. I could seebthe outline of his chest and arm muscles under the gray, form-fitting Henley he wore.
He brushed the snow flurries from his short, chestnut-colored hair and I let out a long breath.
We looked at each other and the world stopped for a moment. He had the oddest eyes I’d ever looked into. They were a bluish-purple and they were beautiful.
I felt my breath caught in the back of my throat as we both fought to look away.
Someone walked into the room and I backed away from thebtowering, handsome man.
I looked over and froze as I recognized the man who walked in. He was the one from the funeral, the one who had snapped the neck of the man in the casket.
He clearly recognized me, as he stopped in his tracks too. “What are you doing here?”
I looked to the handsome stranger for some kind of help. “Granddaughter of Otto Müller,” he explained shortly.
“I know that,” the guy sassed. “I mean how did you find us?”
I shifted nervously on my feet.
“I followed you,” I admitted sheepishly. I saw the two men exchange looks and I was convinced in that
moment that they were about to kill me.
“I just wanted to find out what happened to my grandfather.” I added quickly.
“We’re trying to figure that out, too” the Asian one addedbHe walked over to me, extending his hand. I noticed the sleeve of tattoos on his arm as he did.
“I’m Jai,” he said, shaking my hand.
“Ella,” I replied.
I turned to look at the handsome stranger but he walked pastbme, neglecting to introduce himself.
Rude, I thought. But not as rude as killing me would have been, so l’ll let it slide.
“When did you fly into Germany?” Jai asked.
“Uh, two days ago,” I said.
“When was the last time you saw your grandfather alive?” Hebasked.
I shrugged, trying to recall. “A few years at least.”
“You didn’t know him well,” the handsome stranger assumed aloud.
“I knew him well enough.”
“Did you ever see the body?” Jai asked.
I stopped myself from replying and looked at the two of thembsuspiciously. “You’re not implying he might still be alive.” I said.
I took their silence as affirmation of this statement.
I shook my head, stumbling over the words I spoke next.
“He had a heart condition,” I informed them. “His neighborbfound him passed out in the yard and he died on the way to the hospital due to heart failure.”
“But you never saw the body?” Jai asked.
I huffed “No, I never saw it. I didn’t need to.”
They didn’t say anything.
Jai had his arms crossed as he stood in front of me and stared at the floor in thought. The other man was on the other side ofbthe room with his back towards us, staring into the fire.
“When was the last time you spoke to yourbgrandfather?” Thebother man asked.
I thought for a moment. “About a month ago.”
“Did anything seem off to you?”
I shook my head. “No, should something have?” I asked.
The other man turned his attention from the firebplace to lookbat me. bHis intense stare caught me off guard.
“This isn’t the first time this has happened,” he said, walkingbtoward me.
Jai looked startled that he was sharing thisbinformation with meband he looked at him warily.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Other members of this community and those surroundingbmen, in particular-have been reported dead by hospitals and morgues but haven’t shown up for their own funerals,” he explained.
I looked between them incredulously.
“Are you police?” I asked.
“No.”
“Are you private investigators?”
“You could say that,” he replied, crossing his arms.
That’s not very specific, I thought.
They saw my hesitation to believe them.
“The last man this happened to we found alive.” Jai said.
My eyes widened. “You really think my grandfather could be alive?” I asked.
Jai shrugged and the other man stared at me straight-faced.
“If that’s the case, I want to help you find him,” I said.
“I don’t think so,” Jai replied, suppressing a smile. “We’re returning to Hechingen tomorrow morning.”
“Come on,” I said. “I knew him better than you. If something wasbup, I would be able to tell. I can help.”
“No” Jai said firmly. “The most you can do is tell us everythingbyou know about your grandfather and let us handle things from here.”
I looked to the other man, who was still looking at me in deep thought. The eye contact that I made with him was intense, so I looked away quickly.
“Take me with you,” I demanded. “I can help you find him.”
Jai shook his head. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
I huffed and planted my feet firmly. “Listen, if you didn’t want me to come with you, you shouldn’t
have told me where you were going.”
Jai struggled over what to say next.
“If you come, you have to help us find him and anyone else thatbhappens to go missing in the meantime.” the other man bartered.
“Deal,” I answered immediately, sighing in relief.
Jai looked at him in disbelief.
“And we’ll need all your grandfather’s financial and health records from the past few ears.” the purple-eved man added.
I nodded. “I’l get them.”
“We’ll pick you up at five in the morning tomorrow then.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
I looked at the two men as I backed towards the door and opened it. They watched as I went back out into the night air, in totalBdisbelief of what had just occurred. I walked quickly from the cabin into the darkness of the forest. I found the truck a few minutes later and I drove away quickly.
Fortunately, there were never many turns made on the trip toBthe cabin, so I easily remembered my way back home.
I pulled into the empty driveway of my grandfather’s cottageBand it hit me for the first time that he might not actually be dead.
There was a chance that I could find him, alive.
I got out of the truck, fiddling with the keys as I walked up toBthe door. I thought I saw something move in the corner of my eye and I looked to see nothing but an empty lawn.
Weird.
I looked around for a moment before going inside. Waiting for me in my room was Zak. He was the only one in theBhouse.
“Where are Mom and Dad?” I asked.
”Police station,” he signed. “Where have you been?”
I sighed as he raised an eyebrow. “I did something stupid.”
Narrative P. O. V.
“What were you thinking?” Jai seethed.
Cain stepped back into the room and brushed the snow from his hair that had fallen in it during his run. “I don’t recall giving you the authority to question me,” Cain said calmly.
Jai took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s a human,” he reasoned.
Cain turned to look at Jai as he took of his coat.
“She’s my mate.”