The Blood That Bonds (28 page)

Missy howled in triumph and flung herself
again into the air, so fast that Two could barely track her
movement. It was too late to roll, too late to dodge, too late to
do anything. Time seemed to stretch out. Missy was in the air above
her, a vision of death and hate and horror unlike any Two had ever
beheld. Two’s hands scrabbled at her sides, looking for something,
anything. Her hands touched something cylindrical, grabbed it in a
panic, brought it in front of her.

The table leg.

Twelve inches long, three in diameter, the
leg had splintered into a sharp point when the table had
disintegrated. Two held it out against the oncoming impact in
desperation. Missy’s eyes flared wide in surprise just before she
landed.

The sound the piece of oak made as it
entered Missy’s breastplate was indescribable. Splitting flesh,
cleaving through bone, it pierced her body, the force of her
landing driving it further and further in. Two felt a sudden liquid
warmth gush across her hands. She shoved out and up, flipping the
girl over on her back. Missy somersaulted, flailed in the air, and
crashed to the floor on her back. Two rolled away, blood on her
hands, her clothes, the carpet, everywhere.

Missy was making strangled choking noises,
clawing at the stake in her chest, unable to get a decent handhold
through the blood and the pain. She writhed on the floor, unable to
lie flat. The point of the table leg held her back in an arched
position. She screamed, and the scream became wet and strained,
filling the air with red mist. Then she fell back again and was
still.

* * *

Two lay on the ground, waiting for her limbs
to stop shaking. It seemed an eternity but was in truth only
moments. She pushed herself to a sitting position and looked at the
body on the floor in front of her. She was vaguely aware of Sam’s
presence beside her. The half-vampire spoke, her voice taut and
breathy with tension. “Holy shit!”

The body on the floor jerked at this sound,
arms flailing, and clawed at the entertainment center to its left.
Missy’s nails dug into the wood, splintering it. With an effort,
she hauled herself upward, leaning against the wall, coughing
blood. She brought her feet around and slumped into a sitting
position, leaning against the cabinet, looking at the stake in her
chest.

“
Oh, God,” Two moaned. She
scrambled backward on her hands, like a crab, away from the
figure.

At this, the girl’s head jerked upward. Her
eyes locked with Two’s. Not Missy’s eyes, Two realized.
Melissa’s.

“
Oh,
God
!” Two cried. “Oh, no! Melissa …”
She crawled back toward Melissa. The wood had pierced the lower
part of Melissa’s breastplate, traveling at an upward path and
emerging just to the left of her spine, some six inches above the
spot it had entered. Not knowing what else to do, Two grasped at
the stake and began to tug, trying to pull it from her friend’s
body.

Melissa regarded her calmly, opened her
mouth, tried to talk. A crimson bubble formed, burst at her lips,
and the words came.

“
Two. Two, stop. It hurts.
Please stop.”

Two stopped, looked at Melissa, tried to say
something that would make up for what she had done, and instead
burst into tears.

Melissa took her hand.

“
It’s okay, Two. Thank you.
She’s gone. She’s dead, Two. You killed her. Thank you. I’m dying
too, I guess, but that’s okay. I told you: I was going to die
anyway.”

Two was making whimpering sounds, between
her sobs. She wanted words to come. She wanted to apologize, to
take it back somehow. Her throat seemed incapable of forming
articulate sound. She pressed her forehead against Melissa’s,
tilted it up, pressed her lips against the bridge of Melissa’s
nose.

“
Sisters.” Melissa’s voice
was weakening. She turned her head, coughed blood again, looked at
Two in apology. Two reached out and smoothed Melissa’s hair away
from her eyes.

“
It’s not so bad. It’s all
right. I don’t even feel it anymore. I’m all numb. It’s not so bad,
Two. It’s not so bad, Theroen.”

Melissa’s eyes moved away from Two, focused
on a point behind her. Theroen stood in the doorway, motionless.
His expression was calm, almost peaceful, but there were tears in
his eyes.

“
Is it not, Melissa?” he
asked.

“
No. Theroen?”

“
Yes.”

“
Thank you … for being my
friend for all these years. You gave me more than I
deserved.”

“
Melissa. My sister, you
deserve far more than anything I could ever have given.”

Melissa closed her eyes for a moment, opened
them, looked back at Two. Her voice was little more than the
movement of air past her lips.

“
You’re going to be a
wonderful vampire. He loves you. An eternity of love, Two. Don’t
cry.”

Two found her voice at last, a brittle croak
that made her throat ache. “I’m sorry for this, Melissa. I’m so
sorry.”

“
Don’t be. I’m free. You’re
free. Don’t be sorry.”

She looked again at Theroen, who had moved
to kneel beside her, and opened her mouth to say something else. It
never came. As she drew in breath, her chest hitched once. Twice.
Settled. Melissa’s eyes grew wide and distant, distant and dark;
like a glass reflecting eternity. Two made a low, sorrowful noise,
closed her eyes, held Melissa’s hand. Theroen spoke, but his voice
was distant. Distant and dark.

“
Peace be with you,
Melissa. If there is a God, and if he is just, he will bring you to
a better place than this.”

Two felt herself rising, felt herself moving
away, running away, as far away as she could go. She made it six
feet before she tripped, stumbled, fell to the floor. Her hands
clenched at the carpet, as if to tear it from the floor. Death,
despair, love. The love made it worse, somehow. An eternity of
love.

Two put her face in the soft loops of wool,
sobbing.

* * *

It took nearly a minute of saying her name
before Theroen was able to gain Two’s attention. She looked at him,
blinking and unable to comprehend, then shook her head to clear it.
Theroen watched as her eyes filled again with horror, with
despair.

“
Don’t.” A simple word,
delivered in the same calm, strong manner in which he always spoke.
Not a request, not a command. Almost a piece of advice, as in the
car, the first night she had met him.
Don’t
.

Two clenched her fist, fought down the
sorrow that wanted to engulf her, and looked again at her
lover.

“
We’re in trouble, aren’t
we?”

“
Oh, yes. Very much so, I’d
say. This has not gone according to plan. Anyone’s plan.
Unbeknownst to me, there were many of those.”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
Your death at Missy’s
hands was meant to be Abraham’s parting gift to his son. Just a
little dark comedy. A way of thanking me for centuries of service,
and a reminder of who truly holds the power, now and forever. It
seems he underestimated your abilities.”

“
Or my luck.”

“
It doesn’t matter. You are
alive and Missy is dead. It is regrettable that she took Melissa
with her, but this was inevitable. Abraham will not be pleased with
this. I think it best that we leave. Now.”

“
Can I come?” The two
vampires had forgotten Sam, who had thrown herself behind the couch
when Melissa’s body had initially jerked back to life.

Theroen sighed. He looked at Melissa’s body,
looked at Sam, looked at Two.

“
You promised her,
Theroen,” Two reminded him.

“
I did, yes.”

“
So let’s go.”

Theroen nodded. “Yes, Samantha, you may
come.”

Two looked over at Melissa. “What about her?
We can’t just leave her here.”

“
Abraham will take care of
her. No, don’t argue. I realize how preposterous it sounds, but you
have to trust me. One of the few customs he seems to care about is
giving dead vampires a proper funeral. He will conduct services,
and then he will burn her, but he will do both with reverence. I do
not know why he does this, but I have seen it more than once. It is
the only thing in him that still seems human.”

“
It feels
wrong.”

“
Everything is going to
feel wrong for some times, I think. We must go, Two. You’ve done
all you can for Melissa.”

Sam came to join them. “So what now?”

Theroen turned to Sam. “Where are your
shoes?”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “How the hell would
I know?”

“
You’ll need something for
your feet, and a coat. The closet in the hall is full of discarded
clothing. Find something.”

Sam looked at Two, unsure. Two nodded. “Do
what he says, Sam.”

She did. Theroen turned to Two. “Good. Let’s
go.”

Two glanced once more at Melissa as they
left the room. She wanted to apologize, to take it back
somehow.

There was no time.

* * *

They found Sam at the closet, pulling on her
shoes and jacket. Two had brought no possessions to the mansion,
and had none to take. Theroen cared very little for any of it, and
had no desire to bring anything with him. He held other apartments,
in other places, had more than enough money in banks with which to
begin their life. They left the mansion, packed full of art, trash,
and everything in between, to Abraham.

The Ferrari wouldn’t fit three, nor would a
motorcycle, of which there were four in the garage. A Jeep was
parked behind two of the latter, and Theroen leapt on the first,
moving it quickly out of the way and returning to move the second.
He seemed agitated, an unusual state for him. Two thought it best
not to question, but Theroen picked up on her curiosity.

“
I am greatly concerned by
what Abraham may do in the heat of the moment. He is undoubtedly
aware of his daughter’s death, and I do not expect him to take it
well. I hope he may allow us to escape, though I do not know if he
will. If he decides to stop us, things will likely not go
well.”

“
I’d ask you to define
that, but I think I already know.”

Theroen nodded, and let the second bike drop
with a crash, not concerned with it. He moved back to the Jeep. Two
reached over, hit the button for the garage door opener, and
watched it rise. It was raining outside, dark and cold; December
rain just barely too warm to freeze. The hunger raged in her, but
now was not the time. She heard a howl.

“
What about
Tori?”

“
No time, Two, and no
choice. Abraham’s orders were to leave her. We’ve already killed
his daughter and are stealing her fledgling. I’ll not risk angering
him further.”

Two looked again out into the blackness
beyond the garage door, understanding but not yet ready to accept.
Behind her, she heard car doors opening. One closed.

“
Two.” Theroen was standing
at his door, waiting. The passenger side was empty in the front.
Sam sat in the rear. Two bit her lip, fighting against her
anger.

“
Okay, Theroen. It’s not
right. It’s not fair. It’s totally fucked up, but I think we
crossed the line between right and wrong somewhere around the time
I stabbed my friend to death with a fucking table leg,
anyway.”

“
That may well be true. We
wait on you, my love. You must decide if you are ready to
leave.”

Two clenched her teeth, turned, moved toward
the Jeep.

* * *

They made it halfway down the driveway
before Theroen was forced to jam on the brakes, bringing the Jeep
to a sudden, skidding halt on the wet asphalt. Two, not wearing a
seatbelt, caught her weight on her arms. Stronger now than she had
been before, she barely felt the impact. Sam thudded against the
back of Two’s seat with a squawking cry.

“
Theroen! Jesus, what are
you …” Two didn’t need to finish. The sweeping sense of dread that
engulfed her, starting at the base of her spine and working its way
up, told her everything she needed to know. Abraham. Outside. Two
looked out through the windshield, and into the eyes of
hell.

“
Run him over!” It took Two
a moment to recognize her own voice. It sounded like a scared
little girl.

“
He could pick up the car.”
Theroen’s voice was flat, bereft of emotion, accepting, and Two
understood in that moment what was to happen. This would be the
end, likely, for all three of them. Frustration, hate and rage rose
up inside her. It was going to end like
this
?

Theroen picked up on these thoughts, and
turned to her. “I am out of ideas, Two. I love you, and I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I brought you into any of this.”

Before Two could respond to
this, they heard the rear door unlatch. Two glanced back. Sam’s
eyes were fixated on the figure standing before the car. Glazed,
unseeing, Sam pushed with her arm, opened the door, stepped out of
the car. Two felt the tug as well, a gentle push.
Get out
.
Get out, and all will be well
. It grew like the tide, surging over her thoughts, compelling
her.
Get out, and all will be
well
.

Two felt Theroen’s own mind drive suddenly
into hers like a spike. It acted as a harsh slap, a mental shock so
great that it left her reeling. Abraham’s grip on her thoughts was
lost.