My cousin snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at me as a flush crept to my cheeks. “Alright then, carry on,” she said cheekily before slipping back inside. She paused before the door clicked shut and added, “Don’t forget to use protection!”
I bent down and scooped up a handful of powdery snow and threw it at her. She yelped and slammed the door shut while the guys chuckled.
13
”Why arewe sitting in your shed?” I asked as I reclined in a lawn chair. War was passing out ice-cold beers, and Thane found an old record player in a box that actually worked.
“I thought we could give them some space to settle in,” he said, sipping from the bottle, his eyes running over me leisurely.
“I find it rather comfy,” Thane said as he placed a dusty old record under the needle. Bluesy music from centuries past began to play.
It was cold in the shed, but roomy, and with four bodies filling it up, it didn’t take long to warm up, especially after Thane magically lit several camping lanterns.
There were lawn chairs for each of us, so we sat in a circle. The flickering light cast a comfortable orange glow around the dark space. It wasn’t a rickety old shed, but rather a small garage-like storage spacethat didn’t have much in it save for a dozen or so boxes and some knickknacks or sporting equipment.
“So, this is your hideaway from the world?” I asked War.
“For about a hundred years now. I come up here whenever I can’t take the city anymore and need a break.”
“That’s smart. I would give anything for a place like this.”
He smiled. “You’re welcome here whenever you want, Trix. What’s mine is yours.”
Thane tilted his head at his brother, a knowing look in his eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day The Executioner finally fell.” War glared at Thane but didn’t argue.
"What’s the deal with that anyway?” I asked. I never had the balls to ask him, but I was so curious.
“It’s a long and bloody story,” War mumbled around a pull of his beer.
“I tell it best, I reckon,” Thane said.
I looked at War, and he just shrugged, not arguing. He was a man of few words. The complete and utter opposite of his brother.
“You’re familiar with the doctrine wars, yes?” Thane asked. Gareth visibly tensed, and War’s eyes were far away. I nodded. “Well, my brother, here, was a general. When we exposed ourselves to humans, there were uprisings. They called us monsters and demons.”
Typical. Humans were still that way. My uncle was a prime example of the hatred that just bred more hatred if it wasn’t dealt with.
“Warrik was put in charge of a small squadron to quell one such uprising. It was bloody and brutal, but he did what had to be done,” Thane continued, taking a sip of his own beer.
I looked over at War again and saw the pain etched on his face. I reached out to take his hand in mine, offeringcomfort that I knew wouldn’t fix anything but might help just a little bit.
Thane cleared his throat before continuing. “The humans didn’t take kindly to being bested by monsters like us, so they captured him during the day when vampires slept. This was before daylight potion.”
My head spun with all the possibilities of what could have happened next.
“Their scientists wanted answers about our abilities and physiology." He took another slug from the bottle before going on: "They experimented on him for months while we searched for him."
My mouth dropped open as my brain valiantly tried to wrap around it with too many questions racing through me. What had they done? How much damage?
"He still carries those scars," Thane finished quietly after finishing off his beer with an audible gulp. He was being purposefully nonchalant, as if telling a bedtime story.
It felt like hours passed while I sat there, soaking up this new information.
Finally, War chimed in, his voice quiet yet raw, emotion dripping behind every word "On my last day held captive, a guard slipped up, and I took the opportunity to free myself. But once I was out, it was a bloodbath.”
Thane’s face had gone solemn. “They’d starved him while he was in there. So, when he was free, he unleashed himself, killing thousands in the war camp. The humans never saw him coming. The media called him The Executioner, because once he was coming for you, there was no hope of escape. He was bloodthirsty and brutal, and he was exactly what our people needed to win.”
My heart raced as War's words sank in. The thought of him being tormented for years on end, only to beunleashed with such fury upon his release, sent chills down my spine.
