Page 90 of Flock This

I hope you’re well. I’d wanted to see you again before the end, but you’ve been gone. I guess that’s how it works when people are near their end—they remain still while everyone else keeps moving.

I don’t think we’ll get to meet again. It’s harder to breathe now, harder to think, but I figured it out. I should have known from the start how to open the box, but William always had a biting sense of humor. He enjoyed teasing me, making me work for things, so of course he’d do it now. Still, I got it open.

He left me messages, things he wanted me to know that he was too scared to tell me in person. It’s funny, isn’t it, how we see vampires as the ones in power, as the strong ones? Maybe it’s because I watched him for so long, because I remained by his side for so many years, but I know better, now. Vampires might have the physical strength, but their thralls allow them to exist. We give them the ability to keep going, century after century. We are far more vital to them than they will ever realize.

Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble. I’m giving you this as a final thank you. If it wasn’t for you, I might have never found that box, might have never gotten the final gift William left for me, might have never heard what he really wanted me to know. I hope this helps you, and who knows? Perhaps we’ll meet again, down the line, one way or another.

Never forget your own strength.

Roger

A tear fell from my eyes to the page, leaving a fat droplet in the center of his letter. I didn’t know when he’d written this, when he’d sent it, or how the other thrall had known I was here. Did any of that really matter?

I opened the envelope again and peered in, spotting a red pebble at the bottom. I turned it, letting the pebble roll out, then caught it before it hit the table.

Except, the moment it came in contact with my hand, a rush of electricity ran through me. It wasn’t painful, more like when touching one of those orbs with the electricity, a sensation that made the small hairs on my arms stand on end.

And in the center of the room, a shimmering image appeared, appearing from the pebble in my palm.

I stumbled backward in surprise to come face to face with William—very much less dead than he’d been the last time I’d seen him. He sat there, staring at me, looking so real I nearly worried he’d come back to haunt me.

I felt the need to remind him that despite everyone seeming to think so, and me getting put to death due to it, I didn’t actually kill him.

“Hello, Roger,” he said, his voice so real it drew a shiver through me as I pieced together what this meant.

I recalled the note Roger had written, remembered Galen having told me about the notes before when we’d discussed a will. That had to be what these were, right? Recordings that William had left behind for Roger. He might not have cared about leaving anything for the rest of the vampires, but it seemed he wanted to tell Roger something.

But why would Roger send me one?

I had no answer, so instead, I watched.

“I was thinking about when we met. It doesn’t feel like that long ago, even though I know it was. You were sitting around a fire, and the light reflected on your face, making your eyes glow. I hadn’t had a thrall before, hadn’t understood why anyone would want that sort of bond, but when I saw you? I know I had to have you. I went up to the fire and you smiled at me. You didn’t run away, weren’t afraid of me. Instead, you smiled, and I’ve spent the years since then trying to keep that look on your face. I haven’t always done it the right way, haven’t always done right by you, but it’s still what I wanted most.”

He sighed, then laughed softly. “God, I sound pathetic, don’t I? So much for being a seat on the council, for leading the vampires, for being the head of the Garrison family. In the end, I’m just a pathetic man who knows I can’t do right by the one person I should.”

My heart sped as I listened, again feeling as though I shouldn’t see this. This was something William had recorded for Roger. Even if I hadn’t killed William, I sure as hell know he’d hate me if he knew I’d seen something this private.

Still, Roger wouldn’t have sent it for nothing, so I kept watching.

“This is it. I know I should have talked to you, should have told you, gotten you ready for this moment. If I wasn’t such a coward, I would have sat you down and prepared you, but I was afraid. I knew if I saw your face, you would sway me from what I know is right. I’d listen to you, not wanting you to suffer, and I’d lose my nerve. So, for that, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me someday, and maybe you’ll understand why I did it. I’m not asking you to be okay with it—I don’t deserve that—but I can promise you that no matter what happens, no matter what comes after this, I did all this because you matter to me more than anything else, more than my own life, more than my family, more than the vampires. People don’t think thralls have power, but all that is going to happen is because of a thrall, because you are worth any amount of pain I must suffer. I’ll bear it all with a smile just to save you. Don’t blame yourself, though, it’s not your fault. It’s my choice. So, please—” He stopped, seeming to shift his gaze from just in front of him to farther away.

Because of how these recordings worked, they showed nothing but the person speaking. It meant I couldn’t hear anything else, couldn’t see anything else, but only guess his surroundings based on his actions.

“You’re early,” William said, the kind voice from before disappearing. He sounded like an entirely different person. It was strange, the change in his tone, in the words he used. When speaking to Roger, he’d sounded sweet. He’d spoken slowly, his tone lower, almost coaxing. Now, however, any of that softness had hardened to a razor-sharp edge.

This was the William others feared.

He paused, as though the other person spoke. After a moment, he nodded, the pebble still in his hand. “I should have expected that. You’re always early, always scheming, always there in the background making others play to your tune. I should have realized it sooner, back when you were young and I could have plucked you from existence so easily before you amassed any power. To think one little unwanted would cause so much trouble.”

William sighed loudly and shook his head. “Consider that one of my many regrets. You will do as you agreed, right? You will ensure Roger is not targeted? Good. I guess it is time, then.” He reached out with his free hand, and when he pulled it back, it held the stake that I already knew so well. He stared at it, no fear on his face, just a sense of resignation and purpose. He took one last breath, then jerked his hand toward him, driving the stake forward and into his own chest.

I gasped, dropping the pebble to the floor, the image disappearing, the horror of it echoing in my head as though it still played in my head.

Fuck, I didn’t think I’d ever get it to stop playing, ever erase it.

The image, recorded by William himself, had imprinted on the pebble inside the box like a message in a bottle. It proved the truth.

William had killed himself.

---