Jeanne Stein - Chosen

He finishes with, “Happens two or three times a year so I no longer question it. I’m grateful because otherwise the written heritage of the supernatural community would be lost.”

“But this didn’t seem a little convenient to you?” I ask. “A book that just happens to be exactly what we were looking for? A book that details who the Chosen One is and what will happen on an appointed date? How do you know it’s not a fake?”

“It isn’t a fake.” Frey’s tone is adamant.

“If Judith Williams had anything to do with you getting that book, how can you be so sure?”

“I know, all right? I’ve been authenticating these books for thirty years. This is no fake. That it came from Williams should convince you if nothing else. He probably got the book from Avery. Avery had been vampire for four hundred years. It would make sense that he’d have such a book. Didn’t you say he had a treasure trove of ancient artifacts in his basement?”

I press my palms against my eyes. That basement held more than artifacts. It became the repository of my worst nightmares—finding David near death and then later, watching a shape-shifter named Sandra battle the vengeful soul of Avery who had insinuated himself into her body in order to kill me.

Have we come full circle? Is David once again being held prisoner in that basement? I let two chances pass by and I didn’t do it.

This time I will.

This time, I will burn that fucking house to the ground.

When I look up at Frey, he seems to know what I’m thinking and feeling.

“What?”

His expression is stern. “We can’t go in there guns blazing.”

“Is it that obvious? Or have you found a way to reconnect our broken link?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t need to reconnect anything. I know you. It’s not hard to figure out what you want to do. You have a habit of acting first, sorting out the damage later. Can’t do that this time. There’s an innocent involved.”

He doesn’t think I know that? I stand up. “We’d better get going.”

“Wait.” Frey stands, too, but doesn’t take a step toward the door. “There is something else in the note. Have you forgotten? She mentioned an escape clause.”

I had forgotten. I sit back down on the edge of the chair. “Go on.”

Frey sits, too, reaches for the book. “She’s right. The book does tell of a way for the Chosen to relinquish claim to the title.”

But he pauses here, and it isn’t until I snap, “Damn it, Frey, what is it?” that he continues.

Reluctantly.

“There is the challenge.”

“Challenge?”

“Any one of the heads of the thirteen tribes can challenge the ascension of the Chosen One.”

“Not that I want to give the impression that I believe all this crap, but what challenge? I thought the Chosen One was predestined. Had special powers.”

Frey chooses to ignore sarcasm dripping thick and glutinous as honey from every word when he answers. “The identity of the Chosen One is predestined. But if there is a challenge and he or she is defeated, it is believed there was a flaw in the prophecy and the victor assumes the title.”

I clap my hands. “Great. All we need is a challenger. I’ll let that lucky vampire win the contest and we can both go on our merry ways.”

“Not exactly.”

“Well, then what exactly?”

Frey is not looking at me. He’s looking down and around and everywhere except in my direction. The vampire loses patience and erupts with a snarl.

“Jesus, Frey. Do I have to reach down your throat and pull every fucking word out of your mouth?”

For a second, the panther flashes in Frey’s eyes. This time the rumbling growl comes from him. “Watch it, Anna. You need me more than I need you right now.”

He’s right. I back down with a tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry. I just want a straight answer. Something you seem reluctant to give.”

“If I’m reluctant, it’s because I care about you.” Frey taps the cover of the book with an index finger. “I know how much you ridicule the idea of assuming responsibility for the vampire community. But the alternative is not one wins and one loses. It’s one lives and one dies. It’s a fight. To the death.”

A fight to the death.

Of course it is. What should provoke a startled reaction gets instead a resigned sigh. How could I expect anything less than a fight to the death when it involves the vampire community?

I meet Frey’s anxious gaze. “That’s why you didn’t tell me about the challenge sooner? Because it’s a fight to the death? Did you think that would scare me?”

Frey shakes his head. “No. I knew you wouldn’t be scared. Judith Williams, though, doesn’t know you as well. She would mention an escape clause for only one reason. She knows there will be a challenge.”

No. I stand up and push the chair away with an impatient shove. “Pretty improbable, don’t you think? When she came to us a few days ago, she didn’t even know where to go to feed. Now she’s organizing a challenge?”

“I can’t explain it. But if she put it in the note, it means she expected you to ask me about it. Expected you to learn the truth. Maybe she thought it would scare you into doing something stupid.”

“Like what?”

“Like not showing up for the ceremony.”

“If we can get David out of there before Tuesday, why would that be such a bad idea?”

“Because, if you don’t show up, you’ve declared yourself rogue. No ceremony. No challenge. The Chosen One’s duty is to set the path for the next two hundred years. By ignoring what is written, you disrupt the balance. There must be a Chosen One. Only by your death can another be marked.”

He doesn’t say any more. He doesn’t have to. It’s obvious what follows. If I don’t go through with this crazy ceremony, I’ll be hunted down.

Great.

Just great. I’ll spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. May as well stake myself now.

Still, David is out there somewhere. Whatever that crazy bitch tries to do to me, I can protect myself. David is defenseless. “Well, nothing you’ve said changes what we have to do now. We’ll drive out to Avery’s. If I’m wrong and the house is deserted, we’ll decide the next step then.”

He slips off his jacket and leaves it with the briefcase and book on my couch. We go out through the backyard and into the garage. Neither of us has much to say on the ride to La Jolla. While I’m still having a hard time accepting the notion that the fate of the vampire world rests on my shoulders, the sad truth is, there seem to be many out there who do. Including the two people whose opinion I’ve counted on most since becoming vampire—Frey and Culebra.

Maybe if I were smart, I’d stop fighting. There must be some vibe I send off that makes crazies like Underwood and not-so-crazies like Frey and Culebra see something in me that I do not. Maybe I should simply go to Judith Williams and tell her I’ll do whatever she wants. Honor the crazy dreams of her crazy husband. Let her determine the course of my life for the next few hundred years. Become the Chosen One and rule from the ivory tower of her choice.

All I’ll ask in return is David’s safe release and a few weeks a year to visit with my family.

An offer she can hardly refuse.

If that is indeed what she wants.

I’m so deep in my own thoughts that the drive to Avery’s is done on automatic pilot. Frey is quiet, too, probably afraid of setting me off again. It isn’t until we’re about a mile from the house on the top of Mount Soledad that I pull the Jag over and stop.

Frey turns toward me. “You want me to get out here and shift?”