Warrior Rising (6 page)

The body of a plump middle-aged woman lay, dead and drained, just a few feet away.

“Where is she?” Sorin asked as he pressed the kid into the ground.

“Mother?”

Sorin cursed, low and in the almost forgotten language he had spoken as a human. Mother? Really? Council member, would-be queen, and now
mother
? “The one who calls herself Regina or Marie. Where is she?”

“I don’t know,” the kid whispered. “She found us in the park a couple of days ago. Maybe she’s still there.”

“What were you doing in the park?”

The new vamp giggled. “Smoking weed.”

“And that’s where
Mother
found you?”

“Yes. We are among the first, she said.” The vamp smiled, showing his new, shiny fangs. “She’s going to build an army of us.”

“So, you don’t know where she is, exactly?”

The kid shook his head, and as he did Sorin took his heart.

The fight had drained him, so as he left the scene Sorin did not fly. He walked. Taking long strides down the street of a dead neighborhood, he listened to the city sounds, or tried to.

If five newborn soldiers of Marie’s so-called army could do this much damage in a single night, perhaps even a single
hour
, what would the next days and weeks bring? What would become of the world? Imperfect as it was, this world was his as much as it was any human’s.

As he listened to the deep lifeless silence and then, in the far distance, faint, weak screams, he wondered if he — if anyone — could save it.

CHAPTER THREE

Carroll County, Georgia

Mike Harrelson sat in his favorite recliner with a shotgun in his lap. He faced the front door, vigilant to a point, but far from alert. He was sure that what he’d seen on TV was nonsense, but Ellen, his wife of more than thirty years, was scared senseless. It was the middle of the night, going on morning. They both should be sleeping, side by side in their comfortable king-size bed. Instead he was guarding the entrance to his home and Ellen slept on the couch behind him.

If there really were vampires, the way that wild-eyed man on the cable news said there were, then he imagined they were all in Washington. D.C. D.C., home of the bloodsuckers. Made sense to him.

He had dismissed the ridiculous report, figuring the violence in the nation’s capital was thanks to some sort of terrorism.
Human
terrorism that had not yet been explained. Maybe a drug that caused mass hysteria, or some kind of movie special effects. Whatever it was, it had scared the bejesus out of his gullible wife.

Mike had grumbled a bit, but truth be told he’d do anything for Ellen. She’d asked him to keep watch until dawn, so here he sat.

As a plumber, he made enough to pay his bills. This small house — three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a two-car garage — was paid for, and had been for five years. His house was on a big plot of land. It was well more than a mile, as the crow flies, to the nearest neighbor’s house. Even if vampires were out there, why would they come here? What self-respecting vampire would bother with two aging folks in a small house smack dab in the middle of nowhere?

Nonsense. But he’d promised Ellen he’d keep watch until the sun came up, and he always kept his promises to her.

She wasn’t as pretty as she’d once been, but then again, neither was he. He blamed their three kids, all grown and on their own now, for the gray hairs on his head. And for the wrinkles, added to his face by worry and by laughter. His youngest got most of the blame, and rightly so. None of them were bad kids, not even Steph, his youngest child and only daughter, but raising children wasn’t easy. Yes, he blamed them for his gray hair, his wrinkles, and for his paunch.

Ellen had a few gray hairs of her own, but she took care of them, as women do. Maybe she had a few wrinkles, too, but not as many as he did. He seemed not to notice them on her, most days.

Now and then she got a bee in her bonnet about one thing or another, and she just wouldn’t let go. Like the vampires. It was easier, usually, to just give her what she wanted. That’s what he was doing now, shotgun in his lap in case monsters came calling, and a can of beer on the table at his side.

He didn’t hear anyone approaching. Not so much as a whisper. Without warning, the front door flew in and two people — no, not people, not really — moved into the room so fast they were nothing but a blur. One man, one woman, that was all he could tell, they moved so fast. Mike stood up, too fast and clumsy. His balance failed him. He gripped his gun tightly as he fell back into his chair. He bumped the table, and what was left of his beer spilled. Ellen would be pissed…

Ellen was screaming. One of the people — no, vampires, not
people
. One of the
vampires
— had grabbed her by the hair and pulled her violently off the couch.

Mike was not one to panic, but he panicked now. Why had he thought a shotgun would be sufficient? Two shots, that was all he had. He spun and fired at the thing that held onto Ellen. The shot caught the vampire, the male of the pair, in the shoulder. Like it would’ve with a bear, the injury just made him mad. The monster broke Ellen’s neck and dropped her to the floor, where she landed boneless as a rag doll.

Mike thought it could get no worse when the other vampire, the female, whispered in his ear.

“Daddy?”

He knew that voice; it was no trick. Mike turned slowly and looked his daughter in the eye. No, this was not his daughter, not anymore. The fangs, the weird glowing eyes they marked her as something else. Something unnatural. This was not hysteria of any kind, nor was it a special effects trick.

The angry male behind him was moving in, coming fast. Death was in the air; death had arrived. There was no time to think clearly, to take this nightmare in, though Mike did manage to say, “Love you, baby girl,” before he pointed the shotgun at his daughter’s heart and pulled the trigger.

Sword strapped to her side, matching daggers in sheaths at her waist, Indikaiya was ready to take part in one of the many patrols their army had decided to send out in the pre-dawn hours. Finally! A proper fight. She wondered if Sorin might be joining them, but he was nowhere to be seen. Knowing what she did of him, he’d probably deserted. Perhaps he’d even rejoined the vampires they were fighting. Just as well. She liked her battle lines drawn in stark black and white. The shades of gray in this one were troubling enough without Sorin in the mix.

Could she kill him if they met in battle?

Without a second thought.

Would she enjoy that killing? No, but to be honest she had never enjoyed killing. It was a necessary part of battle, not a joy. She would worry about any soldier who took pleasure in ending life of any kind.

She and four others were almost out the door when Rurik came up behind her and whispered, “Indikaiya, wait.”

She turned, annoyed at being interrupted. She might not enjoy killing, but she did take pride in doing her job well. “We will return shortly after daybreak.”

“Nevada is asking for you,” Rurik said. “The matter seems urgent.”

Indikaiya was antsy, she was beyond ready for this fight. “What matter?” What couldn’t wait a few hours?

“I don’t know, but the poor girl is near the breaking point. I will take your place with this party if you will attend to her.”

A part of Indikaiya wanted to argue. She was not one to be left behind, to be given the chore of seeing to a needy female. She did not cook, clean, or care for the ill and wounded. Those activities were noble and necessary, but they were not for her. She fought. She always had.

But she remembered what Nevada had looked like a few hours earlier, and she could not forget the importance of the tasks — one to save the world, one simpler — assigned to the witch.

“Fine.” The tone of the single word conveyed her displeasure.

Rurik grinned widely. Always armed, his own short-bladed sword was strapped to his back. He drew it smoothly and followed the others out the door, into the dark night.

“This had better be good,” Indikaiya said as she headed for the stairs. She bounded up them, light on her feet, and ran down the hallway at a quick pace. If Nevada’s need for her took only a few moments, she could catch up with the others. She was in the mood to use her sword tonight. That was her purpose in this world, after all.

“What is it?” she snapped as she opened the door.

Nevada stood at her desk. She looked a little better, in clean clothes and freshened by her recent shower and long nap. The witch had fashioned her own hair in a braid much like Indikaiya’s. No shower or change of clothing could disguise the stark paleness of her cheeks or the exhaustion in her eyes, but her appearance had improved.

“I decided to try the thing you asked me to do, just for a few minutes, and when I turned my brain from one matter to another, something seemed to shift. Slip, maybe. I don’t know exactly what happened, but suddenly the spell I was trying to put together just looked different.”

A wave of relief washed through Indikaiya. This world might never be truly safe again, but if humans once more had the haven of home, not only would Nevada be safe from those who would kill her to see the sanctuary spell recast, the battle lines would be more clearly drawn. “Are you ready to recast the sanctuary spell?”

Nevada took a deep breath. “I just did. How can we know if it worked or not? It’s not like I can ask for a confirmation email.”

“A… what?”

“Never mind.” Nevada waved one small, pale hand in a dismissive manner. “I need to know if I can stop working on this spell or if I’ll have to tweak it and try again.”

“I will ask Luca to attempt to enter a neighboring house. If it is not possible, we will know your spell was a success.”

Nevada frowned. “Who’s Luca?”

“Do you recall the other task I assigned you?”

“Something to dampen a vampire’s magic. I haven’t finished…”

“No matter. When that project is done it will go to Luca. His magic, his gift, is that when he is not in your sight you forget him. Entirely.”

“Wow. That’s kind of… weirdly cool.”

“You will likely even forget that I mentioned his name, but please do remember what I asked of you. A dampener. A talisman that will allow you and the other humans among us to remember him.”

“You seem to remember,” Nevada said.

“I’m not human.” Indikaiya pointed at Nevada. She didn’t understand why the girl looked so alarmed until she realized she still held her sword in that hand. “Stay here.”

Nevada nodded, wide-eyed and paler than before.

Indikaiya sent the first human she ran across — a female conduit who had decided to remain and help as she could — to stand guard at Nevada’s door. The girl had no measurable fighting skills or magic, but she was marginally better than nothing. There were still those among this army who would gladly take the life of the witch if it meant the sanctuary spell would once again be in place. It would be a shame for that to happen now, just as she had, perhaps, succeeded in her task.

At the last moment, Indikaiya turned back, drew one of her daggers, and slapped the handle into the girl’s palm. “Just in case,” she said.

The girl — no, not a girl, a woman who had made the difficult choice not to run away — who was as tired looking as Nevada, offered a weak, “Thanks, Indie.”

Among the humans, the nickname “Indie” seemed to have stuck. Indikaiya didn’t find it entirely objectionable.

It took her a few minutes to find Luca, who was in a large, windowless room in the cellar with a satellite phone in one hand and a large map spread on the table before him. His two vampire friends and three Warriors studied the map, pointing and arguing. Luca was a leader. He snapped orders to whoever was on the other end of that call, undeniably commanding. He might be talking to a vampire on the other side of the world, or a Warrior on the other side of town, or to anyone who was a part of this war. Well, anyone who had the ability to remember him, which limited the possibilities to powerful vampires and Warriors.

She hated to call him away, to take him from his duties at such a time. One of the other vampires would suffice for the test Nevada had requested, she decided.

Chloe was also present, standing close by Luca’s side. She looked different, as a vampire, but this was still Chloe. She had no place in this room, no part to play beyond remaining at her mate’s side. Since she had been turned, she had always been at her mate’s side.

They needed to talk. Chloe needed to know about the baby inside her. But Chloe was not just Indikaiya’s conduit, she was a newborn vampire, strong and hungry and unpredictable. She would not do for this test. Indikaiya was about to ask the quiet vampire, the dark haired one, to come, when Sorin walked up behind her.

She realized it was he long before she turned to look up into his face. His step, his scent — she already recognized them. How incredibly frustrating! She looked him up and down. He’d been injured, though his wounds were already healing. His clothing — the snug denim trousers so popular among the humans, a dark green shirt that would not dare to wrinkle, and the long black leather coat that allowed him to conceal his sword — was sprinkled with ash. Vampire ashes, it appeared. He had not run away, he’d been out killing vampires.

Which was where she wished to be.

“Come with me,” she said, before Sorin could make his presence known to the others.

She climbed the narrow stairs, conscious that she’d knowingly turned her back on a vampire. Did she trust him? What choice did she have?

“The witch thinks she has managed to recast the spell, but she doesn’t want to announce it until she knows she’s been successful. I need a vampire and a house which he has not previously been given permission to enter.”

“I knew you needed me,” he teased.

“I need no man,” she said, refusing to engage in banter. She was not skilled in wordplay. He was. He would win that battle every time.

Thank the heavens, he turned his mind to the matter at hand. “The houses on either side of this one are empty and have been for months. The humans who once lived on this street vacated, one after another, not long after Marie made this her home away from home. Instincts drove them away, I suppose, though it’s also possible Marie snatched up a few to feed her soldiers.”