To Walk the Night by E. S. Moore

his body was stretched over the horrific wound. It was pink and wrinkled, as if it had been badly burned.
    I wanted him to raise his hood, to hide the disaster of his face, but Jonathan let the hood fall back, leaving me no choice but to stare at him.
    “Do you remember House Valentino?” he asked. His words were now slightly slurred. The glamour that had disguised his features within the hood must have also adjusted his voice to hide the speech impediment caused by his damaged face.
    I nodded, slowly, too stunned to even think. Valentino’s wolves killed my family. There was no way I could forget him. “Count Valentino,” I said, my voice surprisingly strong. “He’s dead.”
    “I know. In fact, his real name was David Smith.” He laughed, though it had a bitter edge to it. “It’s a little-known fact that most vampires change their names when they begin to rise through the ranks. House Smith doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as House Valentino, no?” Jonathan took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if preparing for his next words. “I belonged to that House at one time.”
    I stiffened and drew my sword. I had killed everyone connected to House Valentino. Or so I thought. If Jonathan had somehow survived, then there was only one thing he could want from me. Revenge was a pretty big motivator.
    I started to move forward, intent on finishing the job I started. Valentino and his wolves ruined my life. His House may have been destroyed, but the damage he caused was so massive, I had yet to recover.
    I probably never would.
    “I didn’t ask you here to harm you,” Jonathan said without moving. Nathan had moved to the edge of his seat, ready to spring the moment I made another move toward his master, no doubt.
    “Then why am I here?” I stopped, though I kept hold of my sword. I knew the anger was showing on my face. I was so upset I could hardly think. That wasn’t good for anyone.
    Jonathan stood and turned his back to me. He walked slowly to the other side of his desk as if I wasn’t holding a weapon that could cleave the rest of his head from his shoulders. There was a lot more trust in that simple act than I would have expected.
    “Don’t get the wrong impression,” Jonathan said, easing into his chair. “While I was bitter at first, I came to realize that you, unwittingly, had set me free from my bonds. No longer was I bound to the rules of a vampire House. I was free to act on my own.”
    I studied Jonathan, trying to figure out what he was getting at. It took a few moments, but finally something clicked. A regular Pureblood never could have survived his wounds. And if he were a vampire, he wouldn’t have been set free, as he put it, at the death of Count Valentino. That meant ...
    “A werewolf.”
    Jonathan nodded. “Very astute of you.”
    “I killed everyone,” I said. “I’m sure of it. I counted the bodies.”
    “Almost everyone,” Jonathan said, nodding. “When you broke free, you inadvertently set my new life into motion. You almost killed me, should have even. I was bleeding from the wound you inflicted on me.” He smiled. At least, half his face did. “But I didn’t die. I learned the error of my ways in that sword strike, learned I didn’t need to be subservient to the vampires. I could find my own path, forge my own life.”
    “But how?”
    Jonathan shrugged. “I don’t know. Call it fate, if you will. The bleeding eventually stopped and I was able to crawl out of the wreckage of the House. Some Luna Cult members found me and brought me in. They took care of me, nursed me back to health when I surely would have died otherwise.”
    I closed my eyes for a second to compose myself. This was definitely not what I had expected when I came here. Having old memories brought back to the fore was a torment that went far beyond pain.
    I opened my eyes and stared at him hard. “Did you kill my family?”
    “No,” Jonathan said, his voice firm. “I know what happened,