Chronicles of the Uprising (Trilogy 1): Trilogy 1 (15 page)

Mira lit a candle in the corner of the darkened chamber. As the light flooded the small room, Lucian grunted. Happy to see him somewhat alert, she sat down next to him. “So, do I ask how you orchestrated this?”

He adjusted his position, scooting up and leaning his back against the bare brick wall. “When I heard what you had said at the arena, I knew I would be taken into custody. The Magistrate had already commented on our… arrangement.”

“So you had a lackey come rescue you?” She hadn’t meant what she said to come out so bluntly.

“Don’t you call him that! Curtis is a good friend and ally.” The sudden vigor and aggression in his voice startled Mira.

“Well, by the looks of him, I would say he wasn’t an Elite.”

“No, but a better man you’ve never met.”

“High praise.”

“He’s well worth it. He and his wife are risking everything by hiding us. You do realize that, don’t you?”

“Why save me then, why not just yourself?”

“Because I care about you… your wellbeing, Mira. I put you in this position. I told you I wanted the Magistrate dead. I couldn’t let you take the fall.”

In all her years imprisoned in that damn place, she’d never been cared for. Not really. Sure, she’d been given enough care to keep her alive enough to perform in the arena, but that wasn’t real care. Mira wasn’t quite sure exactly how to feel about his revelation, let alone respond to Lucian’s words.

She turned away, unable to look at him. “I was ready to meet my end.”

“I know you were. And I would have been sad to see you go.”

“You’re a strange one, Lucian. Caring for a vampire.” She knew it then; she could trust him. He’d more than earned it. Human though he was, he was not one of them, the bastards that had treated her so cruelly all her immortal life.

Lucian scooted up against the wall again, wincing as he moved.

“Are you badly hurt?”

“A few broken ribs, I’m sure, but nothing fatal.”

“Maybe not now, but while we’re on the run, you’ll need to be at full health.” Mira lifted her wrist to her mouth. Dried blood and healing scabs covered the spots where the spikes had been. Where the cuffs had slid up and down her skin, there were visible angry red hives. Still, though, she knew sharing her blood would help him. She could spare a few drops.

She bit into her wrist, hissing with pain as her teeth broke the skin, and then offered her blood to Lucian. “This will help you heal.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“Just a sip. Quickly now, before the wound seals itself.”

Reluctantly, he took her offered wrist and put his mouth over the wound.

His tongue tickled her skin as he gingerly lapped at the wound. He grimaced, probably at the coppery flavor. Humans had no taste for blood. Why should they? Still, repulsed as she saw he was, Lucian did not pull away. He lightly suckled at the wound, swallowing a few small gulps before pushing her hand away, revulsion painted across his face.

“Thanks, I hope,” he said, swallowing hard, trying to force down the last of the taste.

“It will help, trust me. Though you might want to lie down. You’re bound to feel a little queasy.”

 He gripped his stomach and grimaced. “Thanks for the warning.”

A gentle knock at the door caught their attention. Mira had not expected to hear from anyone until next nightfall.

“It’s only me, gladiator,” a male voice whispered. She recognized it as the man called Curtis.

Mira stood and opened the door.

Curtis entered with a small tray of food, bolt cutters, and some clean water and bandages. “It’s not much at the moment, but this should help. The city is already abuzz with your escape. It’s all over the news. Be sure to lie low and try not to make any noise, no matter what you hear. Only open this door if I or my wife speak the code word.”

“Got it, thank you. Is there some way we can repay you?” Lucian asked.

“Seeing you out safely is repayment enough. You have a greater mission than I,” Curtis said.

“Then it is not I you need to save, but Mira. She’s the one with the mission.” Lucian said.

“You both play your parts,” Curtis replied, casting a quick glance at Mira before returning to Lucian. “And I will give my life to see you have the chance to play those parts.”

“Let us hope it does not come to that,” Lucian said.

“I’ll be checking in on you when I can through the day. I’m afraid I cannot let you both out…”

“We appreciate your help and your protection. Thank you,” Lucian said.

“I wish I could do more.”

“You’ve already gone above and beyond,” Lucian assured him.

Curtis nodded and turned toward the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

As soon as the lock clicked, Mira turned on Lucian. “Mission?”

“Just because the circumstances have changed does not mean I’ve given up on stopping the Magistrate.” Lucian’s voice had found its strength. Clearly her blood was working to mend him from the inside out.

“How exactly are we to do this on the run?”

“Once we’re free and clear from the city, we’ll have more time to plan. I don’t have all the answers yet. Things haven’t exactly worked out so far, have they?”

“That would be the understatement of the year. But I suppose we’d have a better chance killing him on the road than in the city. Still no guarantee we can pull it off.”

“For now, our goal is to get out of the city and find some sanctuary to hole up in and regroup.”

Sanctuary… Mira had long dreamed of finding sanctuary. It had been a place of legend when she and her group had sought it out, before her capture. Did it really and truly exist? Could she find it? The prospect of it was enticing. Yes, if they did manage to make it out of the city, she would certainly head in that direction.

“Mira?” Lucian sounded concerned.

“Yes, sorry. Just thinking.”

“You looked as if you’d gone into a trance. What’s on your mind?”

“Just wondering how we’ll make it, that’s all.”

“One step at a time… but this time, let’s be on the same page. No more of your half-baked ideas.”

“Step one: You get some rest.”

“Now, that’s a plan I can agree with.” Lucian’s eyes were already half closed as he spoke.

Three small raps against the door woke Mira. A soft voice, barely a whisper, came from behind it. Curtis. “There’s someone at our front door. Soldiers.”

“Right.” Mira’s eyes flew open. Instantly she was on alert.

“You two lock the door from the inside, and remember – do not open unless the code word has been spoken.”

Mira did as she was told, bolting the door shut behind him. Outside, she heard scraping sounds, as if something heavy were being slid in front of the door. She turned and gently shook Lucian, holding a hand over his mouth in case he made any sounds. When his eyes opened, she put a finger to her lips warning him to remain silent.

Moments later there were raised voices. “Sir, this is completely unnecessary. Who on earth would harbor a vampire?”

“Magistrate’s orders. All houses are to be checked.”

Not sure how much of this he was hearing, Mira gave a warning look to Lucian. “Don’t make a sound. Don’t even breathe.”

Outside, the voices grew louder. Male voices. Deep. Angry. One, maybe two or more. “What’s behind here?”

“More shelving and tools,” Curtis answered.

“What did you say your trade was again, sir?”

“Electrical repair.”

“And this? What does this do?”

“Nothing. Those are just internal components for an old-fashioned radio. I like to collect these old relics.”

“Do you have a permit for that com-link?” The soldier sounded annoyed.

“I… Uh.. That’s one I’m repairing.” Curtis sounded scared.

“You’re not permitted to have that level of equipment in a residence like this. I’m afraid I’ll have to confiscate that and bring you in for questioning.”

“That link is the property of the Elite’s office. Confiscate it if you will, but be sure it ends up back there or there’ll be hell to pay. The Regent requested that be fixed ASAP specifically.”

“What do you know of the Regent?”

“Just what my bosses tell me. He wants something fixed ASAP, I fix it. I need my job, just like the rest of you.”

“The Regent has been taken out of office, did you know that?”

“No sir, been hard at work all night trying to make this damn thing work. What happened?”

“Really, you have no idea what has been happening?”

“Sorry, sir. I don’t have the money for a screen of my own. I get my information the old-fashioned way. Newsprint. And, well, the morning paper isn’t out yet.”

He sounded so convincing, Mira almost believed him. But something told her the soldier wasn’t buying it. Not sure of what to do, Mira continued to listen at the door.

“Clueless or not, you’ll relinquish that com-link,” the soldier ordered.

“Of course, sir. Please take it. I’d hate to be tied into any of this bad business with the Regent.”

“Smart man.” The soldier’s tone had turned from annoyed to almost friendly. “Don’t let me catch you with unauthorized tech again.”

“No, sir. I’ll make sure my paperwork is in order for any take-home projects from now on.”

Mira breathed a sigh of relief hearing the footsteps of the soldier going up the wooden steps.

“One minute.” The soldier said. His footsteps halted on the stairs. “What is that light?”

Mira’s heart stopped. She rushed to snuff out the candle.

“I have many lights down here. I need clear vision when I work,” Curtis said.

“No. There was a crack in the wall and light behind it,” the soldier said.

“These old places aren’t built as well as your housing. I’m sure it was just sunlight on the outside of the wall, or maybe even the home next door’s light.”

“Out of my way.” The soldier’s footsteps came heavy down the stairs again.

“You ready for a fight?” Mira whispered to Lucian. “We’re about to have company.

“Ready as I can be.” Lucian stood.

“Stay a few feet behind me. It sounds like there’s only one. I’ll drag him in here and take care of him. If there are others, though, we might have a problem.”

The sound of metal scraping against concrete told Mira the soldier had found the door. “Open this now.”

Mira waited with bated breath. She didn’t like having to kill, but this one was forcing the issue, and she needed the blood.

The soldier yanked the door open, but before he could utter a word Mira had him by the throat. She sank her fangs in deep and drank her fill. Hot, fresh, human blood. Such a delicacy. Mira had not savored that sweet nectar of life in ages. She gulped greedily, oblivious to the revulsion of those around her. 

Nothing existed for that moment, just her and the soldier, his beating heart music to her ears. It pumped hard and fast – hot blood flooding into her waiting mouth.

Every ache, every pain erased. The heat from his fresh blood infused her body, restoring her strength and filling her with new vigor.

She barely heard the sounds of more footsteps coming down the stairs. The small click and charge-up sound of the UV torch should have immediately registered on her, but it wasn’t until the full blast of white-hot light caught her straight in the face that she dropped her quarry.

Hands up to shield her eyes, Mira shrank back against the wall.

“Lucian Stavros, you are under arrest by order of the Magistrate,” a new soldier called out. Mira couldn’t see. The soldier kept the UV torch on full blast aimed right at her face. “Slave 8254-A, you are to be eliminated on sight.”

“Thanks for the warning, but how do you expect to do all that?” Mira laughed. She couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t see him, but by the sound of it, there was only one person in the room. He had to be armed, but he was concentrating on keeping that torch on her face, which meant he couldn’t grab for any other weapons. If she could just get past the pain, she’d be able take him.

“Silence, slave. You’ll remain here until backup has arrived.”

“You really think you’ll live long enough to see your precious backup?” Shielding herself as best she could, Mira took a step forward.

“I said stay where you are!” The soldier held firm to his UV torch, but the warble in his voice told Mira she was correct. He was alone, and she could take him.

Mira’s skin blistered under the harsh light. Small bits of skin flaked off, stinging and smelling of singed flesh. She’d dealt with this before, in the lightbox; knew this pain well. All she had to do was fight past it and she could have him by the throat.

“Lucian, are you up and moving?” Mira asked.

“Right here.”

“Does the soldier have any weapons on you?”

“He has a small gun aimed at my chest, yes, and the torch in his other hand.”

“Get behind me.”

She felt the small breeze of his movement behind her. Hoping she’d be cover enough, she lunged forward blindly. A shot went off. Hot metal seared its way through her body, but that pain was minimal compared to the blistering heat of the UV torch. She met it dead on, flailing her arms to try to knock it out of the way. Her body collided with the soft yet taut flesh of a younger man. She hoped he was the soldier. They toppled down to the ground together. Baring her fangs, she sank them into the first bit of naked flesh she could find.

The soldier wailed with pain and struggled to get out from her grasp.

Mira locked on to him with all her might, wrapping her arms and legs around his body and rolling around on the floor with him, all the while keeping her teeth firmly entrenched in his hot flesh.

She gorged herself on more blood than she’d had in the last thirty years, savoring her gluttony. There would be no telling when she’d be able to enjoy such a bountiful feast again, and given her wounds, she needed the healing blood to keep her at full strength.

When she rose, Mira met the uneasy stares of Curtis, Lucian, and the obviously upset wife.

“Sarah, honey. Why don’t you run back upstairs and get us some towels and things to clean this mess up, okay?” Curtis was visibly shaken, but still managed to meet Mira’s eyes as he spoke to her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. My wounds will heal fast. Are you and Lucian unharmed?”

Lucian knelt down beside Mira. Blood bloomed across his shirt, flowing out from the tip of his shoulder. “I’m okay. Just a scratch, I think.”

“We better take a peek at it. Just in case.” Mira turned to Curtis. “Have your wife get some first aid supplies.”

“I’ll see what we have,” Curtis said, and headed back up the stairs.

“Hurry. We don’t have much time. And if he did call for backup, they’ll be here in moments.”

“We have another problem too. The sun is still up.” Lucian said.

“That’s only a problem for me. You all can get out at any time,” Mira said.

“No. We have to stick together.”

“Not if separating keeps us alive.”

“I won’t hear of it. Separate, we are vulnerable. Together, we can use each other’s resources to survive.”

“Well, my resources are limited when daylight is involved, and as much as I would love to sit here and drink my fill, I can’t keep killing soldiers all day. Think of my girlish figure.”

“Did you actually attempt to be funny in your own snarky little way?” Lucian let out a snort of laughter.

“It happens occasionally.”

Curtis returned with a small first aid kit. “We don’t have much here. Hope some of it is useful.”

Mira opened the small metal container. It had little more than a few bandages and a half-empty bottle of alcohol. “We’ll just have to make do.”

Lucian pulled off his shirt, wincing with pain where the fabric ripped at his skin.

“Looks bloody, but I don’t think the bullet is in your shoulder.”

“Just a scratch, then?”

“I’ll need to clean it to be sure.” Without hesitation, she dumped the bottle of alcohol onto his wound.

Lucian let out a howl of pain. Mira quickly silenced him with her hand across his mouth. “You want to alert the whole city?”

Panting with pain, Lucian replied, “Sorry, I wasn’t prepared…”

“Just shut up.” She inspected the wound. It bled like it would never stop, but she didn’t see any type of fragments embedded inside.

“I’m not a warrior like you,” Lucian said apologetically.

“I know.” Mira had lived a life of pain. It was hard for her to understand that others might not have the same tolerance. “I’m going to give you more blood. I need you to heal quickly, okay?”  

The expression on Lucian’s face was one of deep revulsion, but he did not speak a word in protest. He took a deep breath, and when she offered her cut wrist again, he took it without hesitation.

Mira smiled inwardly, watching him feed from her arm. He might not be a warrior, but he certainly was a survivor. A do-whatever-it-takes kind of guy. That she could appreciate.

Sarah came down the stairs with a bucket of sanitizer water and towels. “I couldn’t find any plastic bags to wrap them...” Her words cut off when she caught sight of Lucian feeding from Mira. “What the hell?”

“He was injured. This will help him heal fast,” Mira explained simply. There was no time for making nice about it.

“Stop that this instant. Do you want to become like her?” she chided Lucian.

“Sarah, honey…” Curtis said.

“No. It’s bad enough she got us into this mess. Now she’s trying to change him.”

“I assure you, that is not the case.” Mira started to defend herself, but decided it was not worth her time. If a person hated her, there was nothing she could really do to stop them. Humans were often too short-sighted as it was.

“I want to be rid of you… the sooner the better.” Her contempt was obvious, yet other than her words, she made no further attempt to push the matter.

“Me too,” Mira agreed.

Sarah huffed and went to work cleaning

Lucian pulled away from Mira’s offered wrist. He gagged and spat up some of the blood he’d drunk.

“Hold still,” Mira ordered. “I need to make sure it’s working.”

She inspected the wound. The bleeding, thankfully, had slowed to a trickle. He’d heal soon enough, but that still left them with a problem. How were they going to get out together… and alive?

“Strip them down,” Lucian said, indicating the fallen soldiers.

Mira arched an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Their uniforms are Kevlar. That will provide us with some additional protection we might need.”

Smart idea. Mira nodded and went to work removing the clothes from the soldier she had just killed. His communicator bracer began to beep when she tried to unfasten it. “Sanders. Report,” came a voice through the communicator’s small speaker.

Mira looked to Lucian and attempted with only her eyes to ask him what to do. Her first instinct was to smash it, but she’d never been allowed close to any kind of modern technology and wasn’t sure if it might be useful in some way.

The communicator beeped again. “Sanders, do you copy?”

Curtis stepped up and grabbed the dead soldier’s arm, ripping the communicator off. He fiddled with the buttons on the communicator, but by the anxious look on his face, was not getting the result he wanted. Finally, after the third time the person on the other side called for Sanders, Curtis pulled a sharp tool from his workbench and stabbed at it a few times. Strange screeches and electric pops finally ended the communication.