Authors: Lili St Crow
Defiance (25 page)
Always planning ahead. Had he thought I’d never find out?
The thing was, I still flushed hotly, thinking of him. Thinking of his hands in my hair and the lightning that went through me whenever—
My grandmother’s owl hooted softly, sharply. Consciousness of danger prickled under the surface of my skin. The shifting in my bones retreated, silence filling my flesh.
I faded back into the shrubbery lining the wall. My breathing came soft through a wide-open mouth, my right hand reaching up and curling around a
malaika
’s warm wooden hilt. I felt a pair of
nosferat
pass, a drift of bad drain-smell and hatred sending glass pins through my temples.
malaika
’s warm wooden hilt. I felt a pair of
nosferat
pass, a drift of bad drain-smell and hatred sending glass pins through my temples.
That’s the thing about suckers. They
hate
so much. I don’t understand it. It’s not like they have a monopoly on hate—human beings have a big chunk of the market, and other Real World stuff has its slices of the pie too—but a sucker’s hate is so intense, and it clouds around them like dust around that kid in the old Peanuts cartoons. The one who was always filthy.
hate
so much. I don’t understand it. It’s not like they have a monopoly on hate—human beings have a big chunk of the market, and other Real World stuff has its slices of the pie too—but a sucker’s hate is so intense, and it clouds around them like dust around that kid in the old Peanuts cartoons. The one who was always filthy.
I didn’t blink, I didn’t move. The aspect made it easier, and I suddenly understood how the older
djamphir
fell into that spooky immobility. It was so easy, a stillness enfolding the entire body like a cradling bath, the world moving past on a slow river. My concentration turned fierce and one-pointed, and all Gran’s training seemed like kid games.
djamphir
fell into that spooky immobility. It was so easy, a stillness enfolding the entire body like a cradling bath, the world moving past on a slow river. My concentration turned fierce and one-pointed, and all Gran’s training seemed like kid games.
Two more suckers, patrolling. They smelled male, and peppery with excitement. The touch whispered in my head, averting their notice. Gran’s owl called again, but neither of them noticed. One made a low aside in some consonant-filled foreign language, their shapes blurred like ink on wet paper, and the other one laughed before they vanished with a tiny, nasty chattering little sound.
Man, I hate that. I hate it when
djamphir
do it, too.
djamphir
do it, too.
I studied the house a little more. It was a big sprawling brick monstrosity, looking for all the world like a square red-brown fungus had suddenly got drunk, smoked crack, and decided to stack itself up to impersonate a mansion. It was
dark
, a dark the coming morning probably wouldn’t penetrate very far. I didn’t have to think about where I’d seen this sort of miasma before.
dark
, a dark the coming morning probably wouldn’t penetrate very far. I didn’t have to think about where I’d seen this sort of miasma before.
It had been back in the Dakotas, under a snowy sky with Graves in the truck right next to me. Going to meet Sergej.
Christophe had saved us then. Or, more precisely, saved
me
. Like he was always doing.
me
. Like he was always doing.
Like I was counting on him to do now.
A complex, tangled wash of feeling slid over me like the aspect. I was counting on him an awful lot here.
Just as I thought it, I heard the
thwap-thrum
of a helicopter. It got louder and louder, and the fungal mansion took a breath. Like a lion smiling right before it gets up.
thwap-thrum
of a helicopter. It got louder and louder, and the fungal mansion took a breath. Like a lion smiling right before it gets up.
Let’s hope this goes well, Dru.
I slid out of the bushes, thin danger candy waxing and waning on my tongue. Creeping along, each foot placed silently, my right hand still awkwardly up, clasping the
malaika
’s oddly warm, satin-smooth hilt. The path marked with red pencil took advantage of every bit of cover, and about halfway to the house I paused, something nagging inside my head.
malaika
’s oddly warm, satin-smooth hilt. The path marked with red pencil took advantage of every bit of cover, and about halfway to the house I paused, something nagging inside my head.
You’re in terrible danger, Dru.
Well, duh. But Graves was also, and he was in this house. Who knew what they were doing to him? I had a chance now to—
“Svetossssssssssssha . . .”
It was a hiss, off to my right. A cold, lipless, hate-filled voice.
“Little svetossssssha, come out and play
.”
It was a hiss, off to my right. A cold, lipless, hate-filled voice.
“Little svetossssssha, come out and play
.”
All hell broke loose.
A high scream cut short on a gurgle came from the other side of the mansion, and the night was suddenly full of noise and motion. Geysers of dirt exploded up, black scarecrow forms leaping free and bits of grass flying. I tugged sideways on the
malaika
hilt, a motion I’d practiced so many times with Christophe it was now natural, like loading a gun. My left hand flashed up, closed around wood, but I wasn’t ready when the first sucker leapt for me, its narrow teenage face contorted. His hair stood up in dead-black spikes, rubbing against each other with little squealing sounds, and I had my right-hand
malaika
free, the edge cleaving air with a gentle whistle lost under the chaos.
malaika
hilt, a motion I’d practiced so many times with Christophe it was now natural, like loading a gun. My left hand flashed up, closed around wood, but I wasn’t ready when the first sucker leapt for me, its narrow teenage face contorted. His hair stood up in dead-black spikes, rubbing against each other with little squealing sounds, and I had my right-hand
malaika
free, the edge cleaving air with a gentle whistle lost under the chaos.
Bloodhunger lit up inside every vein in my body. I
felt
it, as if the map of my circulation had just been filled with electricity. The aspect flared, my fangs dug into my lower lip, and I slashed—
felt
it, as if the map of my circulation had just been filled with electricity. The aspect flared, my fangs dug into my lower lip, and I slashed—
—but the curved edge just slid through empty air because the sucker dropped in midleap, clutching at his throat like he had a rock lodged in there. He curled up like a pillbug, but I was already past. I’d expected him to hit me and flung myself forward. Landed hard, sneakers digging into soft-churned earth, the left-hand
malaika
free and whirling like a propeller.
malaika
free and whirling like a propeller.
I was already in second form, Christophe’s voice echoing in my head.
Knee! Keep your knee in line! Think of the whole edge, not just the point; for God’s sake,
kochana,
keep your back straight!
It was like hearing Dad’s barks while on the heavy bag, an unwilling comfort.
Knee! Keep your knee in line! Think of the whole edge, not just the point; for God’s sake,
kochana,
keep your back straight!
It was like hearing Dad’s barks while on the heavy bag, an unwilling comfort.
The scarecrow shadows leapt at me, and I almost panicked. Fangs glowing ivory and champing, foam spraying from their reddened lips, their hair standing up as their version of the aspect crackled through them, the suckers moved in with that unholy speed. The world slowed down, the clear plastic goop that was my own super-speed kicking in hardening on every surface, the
malaika
whirring outward in the two great defense-movements in second form, which is the beginning of the one-against-many. First form is to build your speed and precision; second through eighth form are all about being the underdog; eighth through thirteenth are the solo combat forms.
malaika
whirring outward in the two great defense-movements in second form, which is the beginning of the one-against-many. First form is to build your speed and precision; second through eighth form are all about being the underdog; eighth through thirteenth are the solo combat forms.
I’d barely begun on third form. But Christophe also said that mastery lay in the first two, that if you practiced only those, you would have the essence of all of them. He took me through them every night before sparring, over and over again—
Quit thinking about him and start paying attention!
I hop-skipped forward, weight precisely balanced, and the
malaika
bit preternatural, stone-hard flesh. But it wasn’t the wooden swords that did all the asskicking. As a matter of fact, I might as well not have had them.
malaika
bit preternatural, stone-hard flesh. But it wasn’t the wooden swords that did all the asskicking. As a matter of fact, I might as well not have had them.
Because the scarecrow vampires seemed to hit an invisible force field. The bloodhunger flexed inside my veins each time, and the suckers crumbled, choking and gagging. One of them fell before I even hit him, clutching at his throat.
Looked like I’d finally become toxic to suckers. In a big way.
Toxic enough that Sergej can’t get to me? That’d be real nice.
I leapt forward again, my feet landing as if I was running with the wulfen in Central Park’s dappled light and shade, my heart in my mouth and the world rolling underfoot while I popped from place to place like a girl playing hopscotch.
I leapt forward again, my feet landing as if I was running with the wulfen in Central Park’s dappled light and shade, my heart in my mouth and the world rolling underfoot while I popped from place to place like a girl playing hopscotch.
But if Sergej had been able to endure my mother’s toxicity for long enough to hang her in the oak tree outside that yellow house—
Dad’s yell snapped me to attention.
Focus on what you got in front of you, Dru!
The
malaika
whistled, I was moving so fast. Suckers fell, gasping and choking, I hit the small wooden door on the side of the house like a bomb and was through, splinters flying so fast they embedded themselves in the wall opposite. Spinning on a dime, my left-hand
malaika
flicking out like a snake’s tongue.
Focus on what you got in front of you, Dru!
The
malaika
whistled, I was moving so fast. Suckers fell, gasping and choking, I hit the small wooden door on the side of the house like a bomb and was through, splinters flying so fast they embedded themselves in the wall opposite. Spinning on a dime, my left-hand
malaika
flicking out like a snake’s tongue.
This sucker was more durable. He was choking as the blade sheared through his right leg, and it was a good thing I’d ducked because his claws were out and whistling through where my head would’ve been if I hadn’t been down. The touch burning inside my head like napalm in a barrel, a gush of black stinking acidic blood from the sudden shortness of his leg, I drove up with long muscles in my legs, left-hand
malaika
flicking again. His eyes were like pools of rancid oil, and the worst thing was he looked a little bit like Dibs. Golden-haired, with a soft babyface contorted in agony before my aspect flexed again and he fell, choking up a thin green-black scum.
malaika
flicking again. His eyes were like pools of rancid oil, and the worst thing was he looked a little bit like Dibs. Golden-haired, with a soft babyface contorted in agony before my aspect flexed again and he fell, choking up a thin green-black scum.
Why couldn’t this have happened earlier?
But I was already moving up the hall. The walls were painted white, but there were streaks of something I didn’t want to think too much about all over them. Crusted streaks, dark red and smelling of copper. It was a complex braid of smells, like in Paranormal Biology where you had to open the ampoules, sniff the blood inside, and list characteristics.
Blond, male, young, hospital. Brunette, female, middle-aged, wounded.
But I was already moving up the hall. The walls were painted white, but there were streaks of something I didn’t want to think too much about all over them. Crusted streaks, dark red and smelling of copper. It was a complex braid of smells, like in Paranormal Biology where you had to open the ampoules, sniff the blood inside, and list characteristics.
Blond, male, young, hospital. Brunette, female, middle-aged, wounded.
Sometimes suckers like certain victim types. And also, doing the sniff test sharpens your tracking ability. With the touch burning in my head, I was never wrong.
These were shutterclicks, images of bodies carried down this hall, prey thinking it had escaped and brought down so close to freedom, a collage of nasty images slamming through my head like iron dodgeballs smacking unprotected flesh.
The floor plan was clear in my head. The door was ahead of me, looming, and I left the ground in a sidekick that would have made any superhero proud. The thought that maybe if the door was locked or barred I’d just hurt myself didn’t even cross my mind, because before I got there, it exploded.
Literally
exploded
, a flash like heaven itself opening and the shock like a wave face-crashing a surfer. I tumbled, head over heels, the wall clipping my shoulder and sending me spinning. Landed hard, the
malaika
still clasped in my fists and the world ringing like a gong inside my skull. The aspect flared with heat, cushioning me from the blow, but it still rang my chimes pretty good.
exploded
, a flash like heaven itself opening and the shock like a wave face-crashing a surfer. I tumbled, head over heels, the wall clipping my shoulder and sending me spinning. Landed hard, the
malaika
still clasped in my fists and the world ringing like a gong inside my skull. The aspect flared with heat, cushioning me from the blow, but it still rang my chimes pretty good.
Smoke. Yellow flame crawling over the walls.
What the—
What the—
Then I was scrambling to get on my feet, because
he
appeared out of the flames. Honey-brown curls and a face stamped from an old coin, chiseled and hurtful. A thin black sweater, jeans, and his paleness with its tint of copper over the top. And his eyes, my God, his eyes now black from lid to lid and so deep. You could fall into those eyes and drown before the soft sucking blackness at the top closed over your face.
he
appeared out of the flames. Honey-brown curls and a face stamped from an old coin, chiseled and hurtful. A thin black sweater, jeans, and his paleness with its tint of copper over the top. And his eyes, my God, his eyes now black from lid to lid and so deep. You could fall into those eyes and drown before the soft sucking blackness at the top closed over your face.
You wouldn’t even struggle.
My mother’s locket gave a flare of painful heat, so hot I was suddenly afraid it had melted on my sternum. I let out a soundless cry—soundless because it was
loud
, my ears still ringing and shouts, cries, the sounds of a pitched battle going on all around me.
loud
, my ears still ringing and shouts, cries, the sounds of a pitched battle going on all around me.
Sergej grinned. And right before he blurred through space and I brought the
malaika
up, I thought, for one terrible second, how much his smile looked like Christophe’s chilling little grimace when he wanted to scare someone.
malaika
up, I thought, for one terrible second, how much his smile looked like Christophe’s chilling little grimace when he wanted to scare someone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I came to in
bits and pieces, lying on my back.
bits and pieces, lying on my back.
Dust. I smelled dust, and something like burned coffee. Dampness, the peculiar smell of something underground, like a root cellar. And spice, like carnations.
That
was a familiar odor, and I tried to place it in the darkness. I realized it was dark because my eyes were closed.
That
was a familiar odor, and I tried to place it in the darkness. I realized it was dark because my eyes were closed.
On the heels of that realization came another one. I
hurt
. It was like growing pains, a deep burning ache in the bones. The idea of moving, even to open my eyes, seemed to make it even worse. But I had to. I had to know where I was.
hurt
. It was like growing pains, a deep burning ache in the bones. The idea of moving, even to open my eyes, seemed to make it even worse. But I had to. I had to know where I was.
But . . . I couldn’t see.
I blinked a couple times. It made no difference. The same thick darkness, like a blanket against my eyeballs. I let out a short sound, the gasp chopped in half because I
sensed
someone looking at me. It was the sort of feeling that will make you turn your head in a crowd, certain of being stared at, and it’s right more often than not.
sensed
someone looking at me. It was the sort of feeling that will make you turn your head in a crowd, certain of being stared at, and it’s right more often than not.
What the hell? Am I blind? What happened?
The last thing I remembered was Sergej’s hands around my throat, my scream cut short, and the bloodhunger pulling on my veins like it wanted to rip bits of me out. Little bits of blackness had crawled up under Sergej’s skin, and he had
squeezed
—
squeezed
—
Someone let out a short sigh of frustration. “You’re not blind.” Female. Young. But so, so tired. “You’re just changing.”
Fear crawled up into my throat, grabbed me, and I flailed. There were sheets, and a blanket, and even more dust puffed up.
Someone grabbed my shoulders. Strong broad hands; I struck out wildly. He let out a yelp as my fist connected, good solid hit.
“Goddammit! Dru, quit it!”
I knew
his
voice too. It made no sense. But I sagged in his hands. All the fight went out of me, air out of a balloon.
his
voice too. It made no sense. But I sagged in his hands. All the fight went out of me, air out of a balloon.
“Graves?” I whispered.
He coughed, racking. I sniffed deeply. I couldn’t see, but I could smell him. Strawberry incense, and boy. He hadn’t had a shower in a while, and that was wrong, because he’d always been so clean before. But it was
him
. Even his hands were familiar, now that I knew.
him
. Even his hands were familiar, now that I knew.
“Jesus,” he whispered. And that was enough. I knew him.
Other books
The Virtual Life of Fizzy Oceans by David A. Ross
Wiccan, A Witchy Young Adult Paranormal Romance by M Leighton
Descent by David Guterson
Vicious Magick by Jordan Baugher
The Only Ones by Carola Dibbell
Monsieur Jonquelle by Melville Davisson Post
Afterlight by Rebecca Lim
Their Million-Dollar Night by Katherine Garbera
Dreamscape by Carrie James Haynes
Shattered by Dean Murray
