Warrior Rising (5 page)

“I can’t afford to turn my attentions elsewhere,” Nevada argued as she swiped at her nose. “I can’t sleep, or shower, or eat…” Tears filled her eyes.

“You have been at this for three days,” Indikaiya said.

“I know, I’m sorry… God help me, I’m almost there but I can’t see the end. It’s there… it’s
right there
!” She swiped out a hand that knocked a few stones from the table. Those stones flew through the air, catching the light and glimmering.

“Have Rurik and Sorin and the human Jimmy seen you this way?” Indikaiya snapped.

“What way?” Nevada sighed and turned away, dipping down to gather the displaced stones from the floor.

“Never mind.” Indikaiya opened the door and snapped at Rurik. “Soup and bread, quickly. Ale, if it is available.” She slammed the door hard, and looked at Nevada. “Men of every age and species are fools. Have you clean clothes?”

“Yes.” Nevada stood with the stones in her hand, glancing down and back, toward her bed and the closet beyond, searching for stones she might’ve missed. “I just don’t have the time to worry about…” Her words, and her thoughts, faded away, as she spotted an errant stone and scrambled to collect it.

It was no wonder Nevada had not finished her task. Her brain could not possibly be functioning at anywhere near full capacity. “You will bathe, you will eat, and you will sleep,” Indikaiya ordered in her most commanding voice.

Nevada carefully placed the retrieved stones on the table. “I can’t…”

“You will do all of those things, and you will also turn your mind and powers to another problem.”

Nevada’s hands curled into fists and her mouth thinned before she snapped, “Dammit, Indie, I can’t handle
this
problem! How do you expect me to take on another?”

“Indie?”

Nevada shrugged tiredly. “Sorry. It’s what Jimmy and some of the others call you. I think they’re afraid they can’t pronounce your name correctly. I hope it’s okay.” She unclenched her fist and rearranged the stones on her worktable, taking a moment to make sure they were correctly positioned. Perhaps checking to make sure they were all there.

“I do not care.” Indie was what Chloe had called her, as she’d tried to capture and hold onto the name Indikaiya. The shortened name would suffice, for the remainder of this journey into the world she fought for. A name was… unimportant, insignificant. Until it was time to be called by a conduit. Then a name — the correct name — took on greater meaning.

“The brain is a complicated and miraculous organ,” Indikaiya said, getting back to business. “It is capable of doing many things at once. You have allowed a large portion of your brain to shut down, to all but quit working. Exhaustion and fear have taken their toll. Take care of yourself, think of other things, tap into other parts of your brain, and you may awaken what has been sleeping.”

“What if the part of the brain I need is not just sleeping but is… gone.”

“I refuse to believe that. You have much power inside you, Nevada. You must find and use it.”

Soup and bread arrived, delivered to the second floor by a conduit who had decided to remain with this new army, then carried into this chamber by an overly protective Rurik. The ale — a can of light beer — was accompanied by two bottles of water. Nevada sat on the edge of her bed and ate. She drank all the water but left the beer sitting on the nearby night table. As she ate, the color in her face improved. Her eyes took on a sparkle that had been missing. Perhaps her brain engaged another gear. Fed, Nevada rose from her bed, collected clothing from the closet, and headed for the attached bath.

While Indikaiya paced the room, she studied the stones and vials with some interest, and peeked at the open books. She was well versed in many languages, but the writing in these books was unknown to her. She would never admit so aloud, but she was instinctively afraid of these magical books. Nevada had shown no evil tendencies, but magic could be light or dark, good or evil. These books in the wrong hands could wield great darkness.

In her lifetime, and in others she had glimpsed from the world of Warriors, magic had often been misused. Those who exercised it frequently turned to darkness, seduced by the promise of endless power. Only the strongest possessed the will to turn their backs on the lure of the dark. Was the red-haired witch that strong? So far, yes. If the day came that she was not, who would deal with her?

That was a question for another day.

Nevada showered and changed into denim pants and a t-shirt that was too large for her petite body. She exited the bathroom with pink cheeks and her hair wrapped in a towel she quickly whipped away. While she was combing the tangled strands of her wet hair, she asked, “What is this other task you have for me?”

Already, the girl looked better. Stronger. He voice was clearer. Indikaiya told her what she had in mind. Nevada nodded, and without hesitation grabbed a book from a stack on the floor near one end of the table, as if she knew instantly what information — what spell — would be needed. The book was a heavy one. When she placed it on the table, it landed there with a dull, ominous thud. For a few minutes Nevada studied one page and then another, then she closed the book and looked at Indikaiya with a new strength. “I’m exhausted. If I don’t get some sleep I’ll be worthless.” With that she headed for her bed, pulled back the covers, and laid her head on a fat pillow. In seconds, she was asleep.

Indikaiya left the room hoping she would not have to take the young witch’s life before this war was done.

Sorin slept, but not for long. His mind was restless. He knew his way around this mansion in a way none of the others did. He had lived and worked here for a very long time. As darkness fell, he slipped out of the house by way of Marie’s secret passageway.

He really should tell the others about the hidden exit, but it would only remind them that he had recently been fighting for the other side. Besides, Marie would be an idiot to come back now, and while she was occasionally unstable, she wasn’t an idiot. Luca and the Warriors were already talking about leaving this place, so… it was a secret he could keep, for now.

Again, he thought of leaving, of walking away from the coming battle. He had been on both sides of it, at one time or another. This war was, in many ways, of his own making. He had agreed with Marie’s thinking that it was time for vampires to rule. He had embraced her vision of a world where vampires would no longer have to hide. He had kidnapped and killed. He had given more of himself to the planning of this war than he dared to admit to anyone.

He’d battled his own kind often enough, in years past. Not so long ago he’d stood toe to toe with Luca and had exchanged blows. If they hadn’t been interrupted, one of them wouldn’t be here today.

In any war, soldiers died. Sorin had smelled Melody, his vampire child — what was left of her — on the shotgun wielding Jimmy. He had not noted the faint odor until he’d stood close to the human, as they’d both protected Nevada. His first instinct had been to lash out, to take the life of the boy who had dared to end Melody, but fortunately for Jimmy the impulse had come and gone in a flash.

In truth, it had been Sorin who’d ended Melody. Long ago, entranced by her love of life, her exuberance, her beauty, he had thought to preserve her for an eternity. She had embraced her new life; she had been a powerful vampire. She had been beautiful and high-spirited and incredibly bloodthirsty. She’d been a fine soldier, and she’d met a soldier’s death.

This street was quiet. The mansion that had been Marie’s headquarters and was now home base — though not for much longer — for a ragtag army of Warriors, humans, and vampires, was well lit and lively, but the houses all around had been abandoned. Even before the initial battle, neighbors had sensed a wrongness in their vicinity and had fled.

Most humans had better instincts than they gave themselves credit for. Lucky for him, and others of his kind, they ignored those instincts more often than not.

Humans and Warriors planned and waited, as others of their kind arrived. The fighting had not yet begun in earnest, but it would. Soon. For now they drew up battle plans and strategies, and were in the process of setting up headquarters all around, and even within, the city. They had to be able to strike from any location; they could not afford to gather all of their forces in one vulnerable house.

Sorin had never been patient enough for strategies. He’d been one for action, in his almost forgotten life as a human and since the change that had made him more than human.

If he found and eliminated Marie — Regina, the self-proclaimed queen of the kindred — the war would be a short one. Maybe he would even be called a hero. Ha. Unlikely that anyone would ever look at him as a hero.

On this dark night, he took flight. He wasn’t capable of flying long distances, but he could soar in the air for a few moments at night, when his power was at its zenith.He loved the sensation of flying. The air in his face, the sensation of lightness… it was a sensual pleasure. To soar above, to look down on the world, that was freedom. Even if it didn’t last… Freedom. From above, the city he knew so well looked almost normal. Almost. A handful of neighborhoods had gone entirely dark, while others were lit up as if the world had not changed. He supposed for those who were ignorant, it had not. Not yet. Even if Nevada managed to reinstate the sanctuary spell, the world had changed. There were some, led by Marie, who were no longer content to hide. They were no longer afraid of a Vampire Council that had been ineffective for many years.

He still believed that as a vampire he was better than humans, but he did not believe the human race should be eliminated. For one thing, they were a necessary food source. For another…

They were not without their charms. Some of them, anyway. He would admit, he had met humans who added nothing meaningful or beautiful to the world, but there were others who deserved to live. Who deserved to exist as more than a food supply. Their lives were amazingly short, and yet for some, for many, there was so much joy and love in those short lives. So much wonder.

In his centuries as a vampire, Sorin had forgotten love. He had forgotten human joy. He had Nevada to thank — to curse — for the return of so many memories that had faded over time.

He touched down in the middle of a suburban street in a dark neighborhood. Not just dark, but pitch black, for anyone without a vampire’s vision. A deep breath brought to him the stench of spilled blood. He listened, with his enhanced hearing, and noted a distinct absence of life. How many neighborhoods in the world were like this one tonight? Dark, blood-soaked, deserted.

New vampires were not particularly smart, normally, but they were strong. He heard the five that approached and then surrounded him long before he smelled or saw them. They were reckless, drunk on power, and hungry beyond belief. All young men, all fit and pretty. He would guess not a one of them was older than twenty. With a newborn’s speed and hunger, it would not have taken the five of them a full hour to devastate this entire neighborhood.

“It’s him,” one of them whispered. "It has to be! He looks just like she said he would.”

“Long blond hair and leather,” one said in a louder voice. “Who else could it be?”

“If we take her his head, she’ll be pleased with us," another added. "So very pleased.”

Yes, they were new. They did not yet know that if they took his head there would be nothing left of him but dust. It was not his job to educate them, but they were about to learn a valuable lesson. Their last. “My reputation precedes me, I see,” Sorin whispered.

“What?” the dumbest among them responded.

“You know who I am,” he said, speaking more loudly.

“The betrayer,” one said as he came a step closer.

“Traitor,” another said.

Sorin looked at one new vamp and then another. “Great. It looks like Marie is putting together a boy band.”

“A what?” the dumbest one asked again.

“Sorry,” Sorin said. “Before your time.”

They swarmed, without a plan, without the kind of strategy Sorin had just been berating the Warriors for relying upon. They were newborn strong, but he was smarter. Older. He knew where and how to strike. A newborn with bleached blond spiked hair screamed as he attacked. Sorin thrust his hand into the kid’s chest and ripped out his heart. There was a moment of surprise on a too-young face, and then there was only dust.

Two came at him at once, perhaps foolishly believing their numbers gave them an advantage. The boy with a close buzz cut lost his head, as Sorin ripped it from his body and used it — again, before it went to dust — to knock his companion to the ground. The baby vamp flew through the air and landed a good twenty feet away.

If they’d had time to develop any smarts at all, the other two would’ve run. They did not. But they did make an elementary attempt to learn from the mistakes of the others. They were more cautious, now. Not good. Even Sorin would have difficulty fighting against a baby vampire's wild strength. Only their lack of experience and their over-confidence would save him.

One of them knocked him to the ground, and the other tried to do what Sorin had done and take a heart. Sorin threw off one attacker and rolled away as the other’s hand thrust into the asphalt where Sorin had been a split second before.

He rose to his feet, flew above them for a moment, then came down kicking. The one that had tried to take Sorin’s heart lost his head first. As the other was asking, awed, “Dude, will I be able to fly?” Sorin took his heart. As he went to dust, Sorin answered.

“No.”

That left one. The one remaining member of Marie’s murderous boy band — the one Sorin had sent flying — stood several feet away. He’d taken a fighter’s stance, but kept his distance, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet with nervous energy. “I’m hungry again.” Great. It was the dumb one.

Sorin walked toward him. “Don’t worry. That won’t be a problem for long.”

The kid — perhaps not as stupid as he’d appeared thus far — turned and ran. Fast. Sorin gave chase, and tackled the kid on the front lawn of a well-kept, modest two-story house.