Moon Daemon

Chapter Fifteen - Prophecy

"You knew," I growl, stomping towards Raziel.

"I had no idea about Vilark," he states, moving backwards with his hands in the air.

"But you knew about Neriah," I say.

"Hekate told me you were linked to the woman Vilark stole," he tells me. "Since she died shortly after you entered the world, I had my assumptions."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" I snarl.

"Because if I told you, then your memory would be tainted," he explains. "Your head would come up with a memory that was not true, and we would never have gotten to what we got to."

"How?" Accalia asks.

"Has anyone ever told you a memory of something you've long forgotten?" he asks, watching her nod. "Think about that memory, and how clearly it plays in your head. That's a memory someone gave you, not that you remember. It could alter your entire memory of someone. I needed her memories to be pure."

My eyes widen as I realize what he's saying. "That's why I took you to the orphanage," I whisper. "I was just talking about it, and it was still clearly in my head."

"Yes," he says. "That's why I've been telling you to ask different questions. Your brain will never forget a memory, it will store it deep inside your subconcious though."

"Is there anything else you know?" Marrok asks. "Something that could help us, but you can't give away?"

"One more thing," Raziel nods. "But I can't tell her. I need that memory pure too."

"Tell me then," Marrok says.

"Cause I can trust you not to tell your mate something," Raziel rolls his eyes. "I will not tell anyone."

"What about Rollins?" Marrok asks. "He is my Beta and I trust him."

"Well I don't," Raziel snaps. "This has nothing to do with this pack. I, myself, am still trying to figure out why all of this is linked to the Dark Moon Pack."

"How much time do we have?" Marrok asks.

Raziel shifts, uncomfortable.

"How much, Angel?" he snarls.

"Not much," Raziel breathes. "You have been Marked."

"What does the marking have to do with anything?" I ask.

"It has everything to do with it," Raziel explains.

"Why didn't you tell us?" I snap. "We could have waited!"

"No, you couldn't had," he turns to me. "This is how everything was supposed to play out. You were supposed to mark each other."

"If you don't stop with these goddamn riddles," I growl, moving my hands and gathering shadows around me.

"Not here little shadow daemon," Raziel smiles. "I'm glad to see you still have your fight though."

"Can you at least tell us where to start next?" Tala asks.

"I don't have to," Raziel says. "You're already there."

"These f*****g riddles," I mumble, looking over at Marrok to calm myself down.

"I know," he says, rubbing my arms gently. "We're close though."

"I will tell you one thing," Raziel says. "The answer is here, right now, in this room."

"Very helpful," Marrok snarls. "We're in a f*****g library."

"It's not supposed to be easy, Cujo," Raziel retorts.

"Say it again," Marrok growls, moving towards Raziel.

"Cujo," Raziel says, slowly. Watching Marrok move to Raziel and stand in his face makes me realize I've never seen them in such a close comparison. Raziel is nearly the same size as Marrok, give or take an inch. Marroks physique is bigger, his browad shoulders overshadowing Raziels.

"Guys," Accalia says, still looking at the screen. "What about this?"

We all turn towards her and the computer screen. She has the picture of Neriah up, but shes zoomed in to the pixels enough to see a date stamp. It was barely legible, but you could make out the year, '00.

"Was she older or younger then when you saw her?" Accalia asks.

"Younger," I tell her. "I wasnt born until 2001."

"Really?" Marrok asks. "I never realized I don't know your birthday."

"It's November first," I smile. "Or so I've been told."

"These are good questions," Raziel says, and I watch as Accalia turns towards the computer and start relentlessly typing.

"Does it have to do with the day she was born?" Rollins asks.

"I found it," Accalia gasps. "You weren't born on November first, you were born on October thirty-first."

"How do you know?" I ask, looking down at the computer and seeing the lunar calendar linked to the thirty-first of october, 2001.

"It was a dark moon," Tala whispers.

I grab the back of the chair Accalia is sitting in, staring at the computer screen.

"Look at that," Raziel chuckles behind me. "Maybe it is that easy, Cujo."

My world flashed white.

I open my eyes and notice that we are back in a mangled hut, there is dust everywhere. I look back at Raziel who is as confused as me.

"Where did you take me?" I ask.

"You took us here," he says. "We need to find out why."

I am about to give a snide remark when I hear a scream coming from down a hallway. Both of our heads snap up and we start running to the source of the sound. When we enter a room at the end of the hall, I see Neriah on a bed, her legs elevated, sweat dripping from her forehead.

"She looks like she can't be older than thirteen," I whisper.

"She's giving birth to you," he says. "She's a child herself."

Vilark is standing on the edge of the bed, informing young Neriah to push.

"He doesn't look like a monster," I tell Raziel, watching as Vilark rubs Neriah's knees and tells her she's doing a great job. I notice another shadow in the corner of the room. I nudge Raziel and move around the room to the corner where she stands.

"Who is that?" I ask.

"It's a witch," Raziel growls. "Look what she's wearing."

There, around the witches neck, holds a necklace that in the center resides Hekates lost gem.

Another scream breaks through and I watch as I enter the world, caught in Vilarks hands.

"Give it here," the witch says, reaching out pointy fingers towards Vilark.

"No," Neriah begs, exhausted. "Don't hurt my child."

"Our child," Vilark says, cutting the umbilical cord. "She is half mine."

"It's a girl?" Neriah asks, lifting her head slightly.

I look down at my newborn body, squirming into the cold air, before I unleash a screaming cry.

"It has to be fresh!" the witch curses, snatching the umbilical cord from Vilark and throwing it into a glimmering fire. She watches the smoke intently as it changes colors and swirls around the room.

"What does it say?" he asks.

"You will succeed," she tells him. "You will fall, but will regain strength on the Dark Moon after the offspring is Marked."

"Marked?" Vilark asks.

"Give me my child!" Neriah begs.

"The offspring is the key to your success, but she is also the key to your failure," the witch tells him.

"Which is it?" he asks.

"Your destiny is as fable as this smoke," the witch tells him. "You cannot gain your powers without her, but there are two destinies entertwined around this child. She either joins you, or she defeats you. There is no alternative."

"So she has to remain alive," Vilark says. "What does marked mean?"

"She is fated to be marked by a werewolf," the witch says. "Her powers will be equal, if not more powerful, than your own."

"How do I stop my demise?" he asks.

"You will arise from the ashes on the first dark moon after her marking. There is a battle, she does not understand your destiny. If you can get her to join you, you will rule the world. If she does not, you will fall. Her power is your power."

"Vilark, please," Neriah begs. "You don't have to do this."

"When does it start?" Vilark asks.

"The moment you feed from the infant," the witch says, backing away from Vilark. "You must feed from your conjoined blood."

I watch in horror as Vilark takes a knife to my infant thigh, cutting it slightly, and lowering his mouth to it. The energy of the room begins to darken, Neriah is screaming and trying to get to me from the bed, and the witch cowers in the corner.

When he is done, his eyes open and become darker. He hands me to Neriah, who is sobbing and rocking me back and forth on the bed to calm my screams. Vilark approaches the witch, snatching her by the neck and ribbing Hekates gem from her neck.

"This was not part of the plan!" the witch screams. "The gem is mine!"

"Sorry," Vilark smiles. "I don't believe in prophecies."

Neriah struggles from the bed and begins to run down the hallway away from them, and I try to follow her before my world flashes white and I fall to the ground in the library.

"Goddess," Marrok says. "Give us a f*****g warning!"

"Sorry," Raziel says. "If I do that, it'll never work."

"What did you see?" Accalia asks, helping me from the floor.

"The next dark moon," I breathe, trying to regain my composure. "When is it?"

"Umm," Accalia says, redirecting herself to the computer and typing furiously.

"It wasn't Neriah he drank from," I tell Marrok. "It was me."

"You?" Marrok asks.

"That's why he was so powerful," Raziel says. "Regular Transfused drink the blood of daemons and angels and only get manipulation abilities, but Vilark drank from shadow daemon blood that was half his."

"He made a child just to drink from it?" Conan asks.

"Yes," Raziel says. "That's why he was so dangerous."

"I found it!" Accalia calls out. "The next Dark Moon is in a month."

"f**k," I whisper. "We don't have much time."

"What happens in a month?" Rollins asks.

"Vilark will come back," I whisper. "And he will search for me."

"She is the difference of his success or failure, once and for all," Raziel says. "She either joins him, or he dies."

"So we keep her away from him," Marrok says. "We defeat him again."

"With who?" Raziel asks. "The angels and shadow daemons who no longer reside here?"

"There are other supernaturals," Marrok argues.

"Are you crazy?" Raziel snaps. "We barely defeated him the first time. I lost everyone I loved to that battle."

"I remember it too, Angel," Marrok growls. "I lost loved ones too."

"We were children, Marrok," Raziel says. "We don't know what it was like to fight him, and everyone who was there for it is most likely dead by now."

"We have to do something," Tala asks.

"The prophecy is clear," Raziel says. "This HAS to happen, or the world as we know it will cease to exist."

"So we fight," I say, looking over at Marrok. "The prophecy says I either join him, or I defeat him. I don't plan on joining him, so we have one more option."

"What if we lose?" Marrok asks.

"The prophecy doesn't say anything about me dying," I tell him. "We can't lose."

I hold off on telling them everything that the witch said in that room, looking over at Raziel whose eyes question me. I don't want Marrok and the other's going into this with the questions that are burning into my soul, I need them to have clear heads. There is one part of the prophecy that is haunting my mind, however.

How is my power Vilarks power?