Redemption (Dawn of the Damned Book 1) (8 page)

“Are you fucking kidding me!” Ejner bellowed into the mic. “You let her go off alone, knowing well that she’s on suicide watch?”

“I thought she’d trust us more if we granted her back her freedom..” Jon began.

“You fool!”

“The deed is done,” Kjeld said with restrained anger.

“The deed is done- what utter nonsense! I knew I should never trust Gunnarsens again with my sister, but there I went and made yet another grave mistake..”

“That is enough!” Kjeld said more firmly. “She’s gone, and what ought to be most important at this moment, is to get her back..”

“Do nothing of the sort. I don’t want either of you two getting close to her again. I’ll take over the matter hereon.”

“Need I remind you that she’s yet in Area One? I told you, if she’d attempted to leave my borders I’d have heard word of it. She’s holed up somewhere in the mid-western..”

“You are a damn fool, Kjeld Gunnarsen..”

“Bjarnesen..”

“Denying your father’s surname does not unmake you his son!” A hushed silence fell over them after this.

“She’s holed up somewhere because she’s attempting to starve herself to death. Here is a girl who fears captivity of any form so much, that she’d rather die. The moment you let her out of your home, you sanctioned her death,” Anja’s brother pronounced that which they feared was true.

“I will look for her hereon..”

“On my territory..?” Kjeld began again.

“Yes, little boy, on your territory! I’m trusting that you’ll grant me the necessary permission for me and my men to come search for my sister before it is too late.”

Kjeld stared at the hard-set face on the large screen in his conference room, where he and his brother where teleconferencing with Anja’s older brother.

“I can’t just let you come into my territory with an indeterminate number of..”

“Name a number, governor. Tell me, how many men would I need to canvas the whole of the Americas in time, before my sister finally turns to dust. How long does it take for a Draugr half-blood to successfully starve themselves to death? A month? And what if she slits her veins and let’s herself bleed, when does she starve to death? A week. My mother did the same thing, and died in two and a half weeks, having severed almost each blood vessel she could. And my mother was a pure-blood. How long do you think it would take a half-blood to die if she goes to such extremities? A week? Five days? Anja is determined to die, and she knows that we three are determined to see her live. Don’t you think that incentive enough to see to it that she tears out her veins with her own fangs..?”

“Bring all the manpower you will need,” Kjeld caved in. “Just.. Find her!” He said gruffly, greatly affected before turning off the video feed, turning defeated eyes towards his half-brother, the only other being he was sure understood just how he felt at the moment.

“He’ll find her..” Jon began.

“How will he, when we have come out empty handed so far? We know this area better than anyone.”

“But he has the intuition of a brother. The same way you found me, he will find her,” Jon said comfortingly.

“You weren’t hiding,” Kjeld then pointed out.

No, he wasn’t exactly hiding. He was done with hiding then. After parting ways with Anja, Jon had found it hard to remember what was so good about living in the shadows. He couldn’t do all the things he’d dreamed of doing. Pretending to be human soon wore off, and the people of his father soon began to wonder over his slow aging, and question the constant memory losses that accompanied people who had mysterious double puncture wounds on their necks. He had to leave, so he did.

Mwanza, a sleepy town by Lake Victoria, is where he found himself. Slow speaking, slow walking people determined to enjoy life to the fullest. The boredom drove him to extremities, and he sought entertainment in the most frownable ways. He did things that would have revolted Anja, and he was glad she wasn’t there to witness it. He bought a hotel, and the services he offered there were of most questionable a nature. Only the richest of men in the world could afford to spend a few days in the establishment, but the offers they got were well worth the dents in their fortunes. And of course, he as patron would partake in all of it. Those were the days he would binge himself on human blood, even bathe in it at times, fucking all day and night.

One day, the guest that walked into the lobby was not human. It was his brother, Kjeld, come to warn him that Mazu Mazoki would soon be on his heels, angry at him for making profit in his territory and not paying taxes.

His brother had been right. Mazu Mazoki himself had appeared on his door, and demanded taxes as well as his arrest. He’d brought with him his youngest daughter to continue running the establishment as it was quite profitable, and had built a reputable name. Pendo, was to be it’s new manager.

Kjeld protected him from Mazu Mazoki, a much feared pure-blood known to torture Draugrs that step out of line by flailing them, and bleeding them to the very point of death, before reviving them yet again.

His half-brother had promised Mazu that he’d face the council, and sure enough, he had, and done his time.

Once he was done, he’d gone back to Mazu Mazoki to ask for his establishment back. The pure-blood had laughed at his face, and told him that he knew nothing of it. There was nothing Jon could do, half-bloods didn’t have much rights then.

Instead, he’d gone back to Solland, that little island he and Anja had first called home. He’d struggled then with the idea of contacting her again. All he wanted was to find her, and be with her. Make her smile, and laugh, and listen to her breathing as they slept. However he knew this separation was good for her. She’d heal, away from him, plus he was frightened that she’d find out about that dark side of his. She thought him sweet and kind, and respectful of human life. Truth was, he was as respectful as his sexual and blood lust would allow. He’d just never allowed himself to be his true self while with her, for he knew she’d never look at him the same again.

She thought him as good as she was, as damaged as she was. He wasn’t. He didn’t suffer as much from his parents and brother feeding on him, only found it annoying, and he wished to rebel against it.

He knew he couldn’t contact her, so what he decided to do was be the rebellious Draugr he always was. He went back to Mwanza to take over his establishment by force.

However the pure-blood woman he met there was not the little vixen he thought he’d find. She was waiting for him, knew that he would come back and attempt to fight her for the business. It was with ease that she’d taught him to never undermine her authority again, physically. She’d beaten him to pulp, into a gooey bloody mess, and then she’d fucked the living daylights out of him, and by the time she was done, all evidence of blood was gone, having licked all of it up, leaving behind just stinging wounds struggling to heal. Jon had fallen in love with her instantly, for never had he been fucked so.

Contrary to her preference for rough animalistic sex at times, Pendo was as gentle as Anja in all else. She was kind to her employees, protected them from too rough customers, was a mother, a father as well as a patron, and she allowed him to be his equal partner.

“It’s the best deal you’ll ever get,” She’d told him, pushing his head down to keep it buried between her full hips as his tongue worked on her. She whimpered as he expertly worked her soft spot, quivering under his fingers digging into the supple flesh of her hips.

“You built this business as an illegal in my father’s area. You lack the necessary permits from him, and you made large profits without paying taxes. The business has proven lucrative enough, so he’d never let you own it back,” she went on to say after her climax, a firm hand keeping his head low as she was yet hungry for another release. Her sexual appetite always turned him on.

“Being my partner, making a deal with me, is the best thing you could ever hope for..” The rest died in her lips as cries spilled out.

“Plus,” he said after her cries ended, now rising over her, to kiss her lips, placing himself at the valley of her. “We have the advantage of this,” he proceeded to say, right before penetrating her.

What began as a business partnership with shared sexual privileges developed into more than that, and now Jon knew that what he felt for Pendo was love, and nothing less. He was sure of it, because he’d loved before. Only then, he hadn’t the freedom to be exactly himself, not entirely. Now here was one who accepted him, warts and all. She loved both his dark nature, as well as his good one. And she was more than willing to delve into both sides together.

Her father had never grown to like him, thinking she was stepping down in society by linking herself with him, a half-blood. However with Pendo on his side, Jon had began the greatest campaign in centuries, that of giving half-bloods the same rights as pure-bloods. His brother had also supported him in it, and together the three of them had united the half-blood population to campaign for equality. The pure-bloods were intimidated into accepting it, even just out of fear of a violent revolution. Despite their greater strength, numbers were overwhelmingly more intimidating, and thus a new Draugr era began.

Elections are held every five decades, but though he’d championed in the new era of equality, half-bloods were a little doubtful as to his commitment to them because of his close relationship with his brother, and his girlfriend, both pure-bloods, and he’d therefore not won an electoral seat into the High Council.

He’d been very disappointed about this, but his brother had done him one better. After taking up the seat yet again as Governor of Area One, Kjeld had appointed him as his second in command.

Jon had then been worried that Pendo wouldn’t move into Area One with him, as she was too independent and powerful a woman to just follow him anywhere. However unknown to him, she’d arm-wrung his brother to let her become his head of finances, using her father’s political influence to forcing him into agreeing. What impressed Jon further was the fact that she hadn’t even come to him for help. she hadn’t asked him to talk to his brother, as would be expected of most women, she’d gone ahead and demanded that which she needed. That was Pendo Mazoki.

Often did he find himself staring at her, puzzling over her. Those delicate features of hers, her supple coffee brown skin and intoxicating scent, her wide eyes that misinform one to think her a weak innocent, belonged to one of the toughest predators he’d ever met.

“No,” he now said, turning back to face his brother. “I wasn’t exactly hiding, but you found me easily either way. Ejner’s intuition will lead him to her on time, we must believe that. Now all you can do is turn back your attention to the tobacco farms owned by the de Santos family. They are once again attempting to cheat on their taxes, claiming that the human government caught one of his half-blood sons and found his documents to be forged.”

“Alright,” Kjeld then said. “Call in Mika. De Santos is a man of short temper. Let’s take care of this before he decides to take matters into his own hands and kills the whole police precinct holding his son,” Kjeld finished, walking out of the conference room, Jon following after him.

“Right away,” Jon agreed.

“Aaargh!” Ejner’s call of anger and disappointment was loud and unmistakable as he threw a grand piano across the empty theatre hall to crush against the opposite crumbling wall. Yet another deserted building that she wasn’t in.

He knew she was here though, in this town. He could feel her, was sure of it- as sure as his beating heart. Sibling intuition is an odd thing, hard to understand.

He’d scoured across mid-western towns at breaking speed in his sports car, his most trusted aides with him, ignoring speed limits, searching for that tug of familial recognition, until he ventured into Maryville. That’s when he’d first felt the leap in his heart, and a deep sense of familiarity. He had only one sibling, so he knew it without a doubt to be her. The only other person that could cause a similar jolt was seated right beside him in his sports car at the moment.

Having Raven with him throughout the search had helped a lot. She’d kept him grounded, reminding him to retain his calm and humanity, and focus on that which was important. Otherwise he’d have left trails of human bodies across the country, just to make himself feel better.

He met Raven’s mother a hundred and forty three years ago, an orphan girl of thirteen scavenging for food in trash bags. He’d been searching then for something, someone, an anchor, and so had invited her to his home to stay with him and provide him with company.

What he’d done then would have seen to it that he was incarcerated by the High Council that he was now a part of- he’d confided in her of all about Draugr existence and their society. The young girl had been a great listener, and a great source of entertainment. She was witty, and would know just what to say. Their friendship grew with the years they lived together, with her running his household and home, arranging for his feeding, alternating the servants to be fed on, just so that they always had ample time to recover and be strong.

She’d remain in the room as he fed, citing that she would keep watch so that he wouldn’t accidentally kill his meals. She’d stand by the wall with a baseball bat. A most amusing picture she’d make, but he didn’t have the heart to tell her that the baseball bat wouldn’t stop him, not even make him hesitate.

Then one day, twenty or so years later, she’d done the unthinkable. As he fed on his new french cook in his vacation home, a villa at the edge of the sea in Ancona, Italy, she’d dropped her clothes to the floor while his attention was taken up by his meal.

He’d looked up from his meal to find her stark naked, challenging him with that stupid sense of bravery of hers. Before him wasn’t the young girl he’d always thought her, but a woman of twenty and eight, young prime and ripe, looking at him with blatant wanton.

He’d stepped up to her angrily, grabbing at the table cloth roughly, so that the dishes and unfinished meal they’d been partaking in had flown all over, and approached her, wanting to cover her up, scolding her for her silly antics.

But Maria had always been one headstrong conniving woman. She’d rushed to pick up a fallen knife, and slit her wrists, knowing that he might fight his sexual lust, but couldn’t resist his blood lust. At least not as effectively.

But in all honesty, feeding always precedes sexual arousal, and that is what happened. Feeding from her for the first time, a notion he’d sometimes entertained, and having her naked body pressed against his- it was downhill from there.

He woke up the next day, her near lifeless body lay beside him, and he remembered feeling the same as he’d felt when Anja’s mother had told him what his father was doing to his little sister.

However Maria had recovered, but not even her near death could deter her from tempting him again and again, and he’d failed each time, the emotional connection he’d formed with her partly responsible for his inability to reject her.

He never was with another woman in her lifetime, sexually, after that first night with Maria, and there’s was a beautiful love story. She knew all there was to know about him. She knew of his father and his illness, and of his sister whom he was far too ridden with guilt to seek out. She knew of his mother’s suicide, tormented too much by all that had happened and the mud the family name had been dragged through, as well as the great pile of rubble of what had been her home. She knew all about him, the monster predators that his race was made of, and that with just slight anger or loss of control, she could be no more. And yet she still loved him.

He never thought they’d ever get children. Draugrs are not the most fertile of creatures. Some pure-bloods try for near a half a millenium before they can be blessed with a child. Half-bloods are naturally infertile, and unless they mate with pure-bloods, they have no chance of procreating. In fact, often they cannot procreate even with a pure-blood as a mate. The case of half-bloods and humans procreating is impossible as yet, as there’d never been a report of a quarter-blood. So hate pure-bloods as they may, any half-blood wanting children of their own had to seek out a pure-blood.

Raven and Ejner had watched as Maria grew older, but even then, Ejner had always loved her. He loved her even as she drew her last breath, and moaned her death long after, his daughter the only one reminding him what life was all about. Their beautiful daughter is the spitting image of her mother, except for her height and her eyes. Those two things she’d undoubtedly inherited from him.

“Father!” Raven now called, approaching him with great haste, cutting across the large hall in less than a second while getting off her phone. “Michael just called. There’s an abandoned church just North of here..” He barely waited for her to finish the sentence, but she wasn’t surprised. This was the seventh day since her aunt had disappeared. Chances were she was already dead, but if not, on the very verge of death itself.

Raven got the address from her father’s subject, and hurriedly typed it into her phone to get the directions.

Various police cars with loud sirens were chasing after them as they cruised across the small city, so she got onto the phone and called her Governor, Kjeld, asking him to have Derek pull the police off their heels. Derek was the current secretary of homeland security, plus he had many people in his pocket, those whom he couldn’t directly order to do his bidding.

Finally the police tailing gave way just as they pulled up at the said church where Michael and his colleagues were busy scanning the perimeter.

“She’s here!” Is all her father said before rushing out of the car, barely before it finally stopped, leaving her behind to jump into the driver’s seat and park it safely, before rushing after him. He would need her support either way.

Please don’t be dead, she silently prayed as she rushed after him, finding his finger’s bleeding as he attempted to dislodge a heavy stone door under the dusty pew area.

She immediately dropped to her knees, helping him lift it up. She could barely hear a heartbeat, but there still was an air of Draugr life around them, though very faint. Too faint, soon to be gone.

The stone cover finally gave way, and with all her might she helped him throw it to the side, tearing after him into the steep staircase leading into a dingy basement.

“Sister!” Her father cried with despair upon seeing her dried up body. She wasn’t really living anymore, just dried skin hugging her thin skeleton, eyes dried out and hollow, nose gone, head bare of any hair- a living skeleton mere minutes from dust.

“Don’t touch her father!” Raven called out with concern. Her aunt would crumble away at a touch. She was too far gone, Raven would have now said, if only she didn’t mind hurting her father.

But Ejner was not about to give up, not even upon seeing her current state. He tore open his wrist and held it over what had been her mouth, being sure not to disturb her body in any way, and let his blood seep in through her weathered away lips.

Most of the blood only rolled down her crisp skin, but some drops made it between her tightly clenched jaw. But those drops were only enough to buy her a few more minutes.

And so her father proceeded, bleeding himself nearly dry for just those bare drops that made it through her lips.

“Let me try, father,” she now said, pushing his weakened body away, and tearing at her own wrist. “Go feed and then come back stronger. I’ll keep her alive.”

And thus they proceeded, until her aunt was reluctantly forced to start healing, her body reacting to the new supply of blood. They went on in this fashion for days, sleeplessly, not stopping, until her flesh began to fill out, and her skin came alive yet again. She was yet too brittle to move. Her body would have to be strong enough to fight against crumbling or breaking before they could move her.

Every one of them had turns now in forcefully feeding her, and as she regained consciousness, she began attempting to revolt. But even then, they kept force feeding her, until she was finally strong enough to be moved into a better place.

They first went into a hotel, putting her on a strict diet of at least a liter of blood each three hours, until her aunt was back, physically at least.

Raven had never met with a broken spirit before, but here was definitely one. She watched as her aunt kept been forced to feed. Raven had also never met a Draugr that could resist their blood lust, not when fresh pumping human blood was right before their lips. Even when she was most satisfied, Raven could never resist an offered wrist or neck of still pumping human blood. But here was her aunt, her veins severed and still healing, leaking off most of the blood she was being fed, which meant she was still ravenous hungry, yet she had the mental strain of keeping her jaw locked tight, needing to be wrestled into opening it, and sometimes they failed, and had to put her on a drip just so she wouldn’t starve.

She’d never met anyone with as strong a will as aunt Anja’s, and she also knew she’d probably never meet with another in the future.