Available Darkness Season 2

so.
    “Do you have any idea what makes you special?” Jacob asked Koenig, who was still writhing on the floor and gasping for breath.
    Though Jacob waited, Koenig couldn’t make words.
    Finally, Jacob made him an offer. “I understand that it’s difficult to breathe, Mr. Koenig, but I don’t have all night. Do you have any idea why someone like you would be worth the time of someone like me? If you can’t answer in the next few minutes, you’re going to have to watch your woman become my snack.”
    The man started gasping faster. He looked seconds from spitting blood.
    Jacob turned on his heel, then went to the couch and sat beside the woman on the sofa, running his long gloved finger up and down the length of her pudgy naked leg, smiling as he did so, inhaling the room’s discomfort like the scent of a rose. He waited for the clock on the wall to lose three minutes, then, quite calmly, said, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Koenig, but you’re all out of time.”
    With no more preamble than that, Jacob feasted on the woman, driving pleasure into his body from two sources — one from the woman’s waning life force, the other coming in petrified waves from the miserable man lying in agony on the floor, knowing he was next and wondering why.
    Jacob was normally a speedy feeder, but with Koenig going nowhere, and forced to watch the show, he took his sweet time, savoring the seconds until the woman was cindered memory. Once done, he stood from the sofa and returned to the column.
    “Hello there,” he smiled, kneeling beside Koenig.
    Koenig said nothing.
    “Are you certain you have no clue about the magick inside you?”
    The man’s hollow and terrified eyes said he knew nothing.
    “Oh, well then,” Jacob said before making Koenig his next feast.
    The man was surprisingly tasty, with many dark secrets and evils, but disappointing, without any memories that might point Jacob to a new and freshly discovered truth.
    Who was this man, and who determined he was worthy of being a vessel?
    Jacob shoved his fist into Koenig’s withered body, then waited for the energy to find him. Once he felt the pulse of energy warming his palm, Jacob pulled his hand from the corpse. He opened his palm and a rainbow of colors leapt from inside, sparking from the center of the bloodied crystal which looked just like Shadow’s, which he now wore around his neck.
    Jacob stared at the gem for several seconds before wrapping his fist back tightly around it. He lowered his fist and closed his eyes, feeling a massive rush of power run through his body from both the crystal in his hand and the one around his neck, as if they were working in concert. The energy was different than the souls he fed on. This was pure power unlike anything he’d ever felt, undiluted with the tainted memories of the souls he took. The energy was part of the wizard’s essence, he realized. And once he found the rest of the crystals, he would be unstoppable.
    Four more, and the world would bow to him.

    * * * *

CHAPTER 7 — Hannah

    “Who is this?” Hannah asked.
    “This is Sergei,” the man said. “Who is this? ”
    “This is Hope,” she answered, not that she believed she was Hope, but she needed to know more, and this man seemed to recognize her voice.
    “Hope!” Sergei said, his voice ringing with excitement as if he were an old friend not seen in decades. “It’s been so long! How are you? How have you been? Where are you at? Oh, my God, Stefan is going to die when he gets back.”
    “I’m not good,” she said, honestly. “Listen, I need to ask you something.”
    “What is it?” Sergei said, voice shifting from hyper to apprehensive.
    “How do you know me?”
    “What?”
    “I had an accident, and don’t remember much. I need you to help me remember.”
    “Oh God, are you okay?”
    “I’m not hurt, but my memory is spotty. I can’t remember you. Your phone number just sorta came to me.”
    “Oh, wow. I saw this on a TV movie of the week once,” Sergei said. After a short pause where he seemed to be thinking, he rattled off a life story fast enough to make Hannah wonder if he’d even drawn a breath between sentences.
    “Um, OK, you were the waitress at an Italian restaurant in St. Augustine where Stefan and I used to go to all the time back in the mid-‘90s. The restaurant was called Umberto’s. You were a painter, but had never sold anything. You were sweet, but super shy. Stefan and I were opening an art gallery, and helped