Chapter Eight

Chapter 9

A few hours later, Zayden and I stumbled into his apartment, well fed and in a fit of giggles after witnessing the effects of one of his practical jokes.

“Gosh, Zayden, for someone who swore to protect and help the human race, you can be just as cruel towards them too!” I said, still laughing. Zayden plopped down on the couch, patting the empty seat beside him, urging me to join.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun! I’m going to get my kicks while I’m still young enough to get them. We can’t all live forever.” He had a point. Werewolves aren’t immortal or indestructible, and though they live roughly twice as long as a human, they end up suffering the same fate.

I felt a sudden pain shoot through my heart at the thought of handing my best friend over to Death. I shook off the unpleasant thought.

“You won’t die, Zayden. I won’t let you.”

“No offence, but I don’t think that you have any control over that. These past fifteen years have been great, but you and I both know that it won’t last forever.”  Though I knew his words were true, I still hated it. Without warning, I hugged him.

The sudden physical contact startled him, but he instinctively wrapped his arms around me, stroking my hair. I wasn’t exactly used to physical contact either, but there was something about Zayden that made me feel calm and comfortable. I could hear his all-too-human heartbeat through his shirt, and the warmth of his body made me feel safe and protected. He is the one person who truly cares about me.

“You haven’t really been acting like yourself today, Aralynne,” he said softly. I looked up at him, a question in my eyes.

He laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m loving the attention! It’s not every day that a gorgeous girl pulls me closer, but I know something is bothering you.”

A part of me didn’t want to tell him. I felt ashamed of my reactions and thoughts, but I couldn’t help myself. Before long, I started retelling the events of today. Zayden just listened, never once interrupting me.

“He is really getting to you, huh?” he finally said after I finished my story.

“Yes... I haven’t been a supernatural entity for as long as others, somewhere inside me, human emotions still lurk. I still feel pain, hatred, anger…  I thought this time it would be different. I thought that, after all these years, I would hate him enough to finally succeed in killing him. So many nights I lay awake, dreaming of seeing him again just so that I could rip that piece of rock he calls a heart from his chest. Yet, now that I have the chance... I can’t do it. I can’t kill a friend.”

“He is no longer your friend, Aralynne, can’t you see that?” Zayden tried to interrupt my rambling, but I couldn’t stop. I had too many things to get off my chest.

“Why was he making everything so hard for me? Bringing up old memories that are and forever will be etched into my mind.

Personal mission? I doubt it. He doesn’t have the emotions…

But what if he does?

What if he was only here for himself…what if he really didn’t want to capture Cara?”

Zayden shook me. His hands forcefully on my shoulders, demanding me to shut up.

“Aralynne. Our sources don’t lie. He is in league with the Moloch. They are onto us, that is why they haven’t made any moves yet. You can’t let him get to you like this. You know how Death is, he loves the fact that vampires kill so many humans, obviously the Moloch is planning some sort of new war, and Seth is here to distract you from your mission. They probably want to use Cara as a weapon of some sort. ”

I tried speaking again.

“Yes, but, what if....”

Zayden interrupted before I could finish.

“The world was full of useless questions, so many ‘what if’s and ‘if only’s. None of them have any real answer. Just like these. You will only torture yourself trying to come up with the right answer.”

I didn’t really listen to Zayden.

 My mind fought against the idea of Seth being here of his own accord, arguing that, Death has been the only thing that ever mattered to him.

My heart argued that it’s very well possible. There was a time when he used to care, a time when something else mattered, a time when I mattered to him. I found myself hoping this statement to be true.

Hope like that, unlike I thought before, unlike Seth taught me, doesn’t make you a weak person. It’s hopelessness that makes you weak. Hope makes you stronger, because it brings with it a sense of reason. Not a reason of how and why the special people in your life, like him, were taken from you, but a reason to live. Well, as much as I am capable of living, at least.

It would be nice to have my friend back, even if I do know it is impossible. Time, yes, time and Death has changed him. No one, not even I, can change him back.