A Shade of Vampire 79: A Game of Death

by Forrest, Bella

  I stopped at a small junction, turning to face her. “Am I trouble to you, Valaine?”

  Her expression changed. Her gaze softened as she looked up at me and smiled. “Only the good kind of trouble.” Her voice was so sweet, I was momentarily hypnotized. A thought crossed my mind. An impulse to do something I’d never thought I would do. What would happen if I got closer? If I kissed her?

  Did I want to kiss her?

  The mild pang in my heart told me yes. When had I become so enthralled with this marvelous creature? The mystery surrounding her, the way in which the air thickened whenever she was close to me… I couldn’t deny any of it. The chemistry was real, though no words had been spoken on the matter.

  Perhaps a dinner invitation might’ve brought us closer, giving us an opportunity to be together. But what would such a dinner be like, when there were Darklings all over this city looking to kill her? A masked assassin was sure to ruin the mood of any candlelight event.

  “What would the good kind of trouble be like?” I asked. “And why would it be trouble?”

  Valaine exhaled, unwavering in her analysis of me. “The good kind of trouble makes your heart want to sing. You’re tempted to smile and laugh more. It’s a wonderful sensation, especially when you realize you’re fascinated, that you want to know all there is to know about this person. But it’s trouble because it is most likely short-lived. People come and people go… especially your kind here, on Visio.”

  “You see an end where one hasn’t been written, then,” I said, following her reasoning.

  “Perhaps we should save this conversation for another time,” Valaine replied, finally looking away. Something snapped inside me, as if she’d just released me from a most powerful telepathic hold. My chest hummed, my skin tingled… such strange sensations to experience around this creature. “Everything’s all murder and mayhem now.”

  I found an ounce of courage somehow, partly emboldened by the prospect of being that good sort of trouble that Valaine seemed to appreciate. “Maybe over a glass of blood, one of these nights?” I asked, and she looked at me again, this time with newfound wonder.

  “One of these nights… Yes.”

  Somewhere behind her, on a street parallel to ours, in another junction, I caught movement. Instinctively, I gripped Valaine’s wrist and pulled her closer to me.

  “What the…” I heard myself mumble.

  To my astonishment, I saw Esme and Kalon running after someone in a long cloak. He was a good fifty yards ahead of them, despite his limping. He must’ve dodged them somehow.

  “Is that your sister?” Valaine asked, as Esme and Kalon both disappeared behind buildings. “And Kalon? Was I seeing that right?”

  “I think you were,” I replied, then reached out to my sister. “Telluris, Esme! Where are you running off to?”

  Her voice came through, slightly gravelly and panting. “Chasing a Red Thread!”

  I wanted to ask for details, but others ran after her and Kalon and the limping guy. Dozens of people, actually, covered in long, dark red cloaks. They came through from different alleys, from multiple angles—all of them converging on the junction through which my sister had just passed.

  “Oh, that can’t be good,” Valaine said, watching them go.

  The silvery shimmer of a blade emerged from one of the cloaks. “They’ve got weapons,” I breathed, fear clutching my throat. My sister was in potentially mortal danger, with so many fiends after them.

  Valaine started running. “Come!” she said. “They need us!”

  Indeed, Esme and Kalon needed us. There were two of them against at least three dozen creatures. They weren’t as fast as the Aeternae, but they were light on their feet, and they carried the element of surprise, because I doubted my sister had become aware of them.

  She was too focused on catching the Red Thread. Chances were her pursuers were his colleagues, and that they weren’t going to let go without a fight. Without hesitation, I bolted after Valaine, and we made our way up the street.

  Ahead, we could both see them—now five dozen cloaked figures, running as fast as their feet could carry them, swords dangling from their belts underneath. Oh, Esme, you’re in so much trouble…

  Esme

  My brother’s voice came through Telluris. “Esme, just a brief heads up. You’re being followed!”

  “You never told me Rimians could run this fast, Kalon!” I exclaimed. “Also, we’re being followed, according to my brother.”

  “How do you know?” Kalon replied.

  “He just told me!” I knew he was probably somewhere nearby, likely with Valaine. Chances were they’d join us soon enough, since we were in clear need of assistance.

  “Right, Telluris. Your soul bond,” Kalon huffed.

  Kalon and I had been chasing this guy for about two blocks. We were closing in on him, but even so, his speed was ridiculous.

  We finally made a tight left turn and found ourselves in an empty market square. The Rimian waited, smack in the middle, panting and sweating rivers. He took his hood off, heated by his insane run.

  “You need to explain yourself!” I shouted, pointing an angry finger at him.

  Kalon and I stopped, taken aback by the silence surrounding us. I was hoping my brother would show up soon. Something stank to high heaven here.

  The Rimian grinned, looking deeply satisfied with himself. “I gave you a good run, didn’t I?”

  “What’s so funny? I messed up one of your knees. How were you even able to move this fast?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  “Little-known fact about Rimians—those of us raised at home, in our deserts and stone cities, in particular,” he replied. “We’re trained to outrun the Aeternae, if needed. Like the deer in your woods, running from the spot wolves.”

  I looked at Kalon. “Is he for real?”

  “If he was raised on Rimia, especially with this anti-Aeternae sentiment, then yeah. I’d think it’s possible,” Kalon said. “Most of the Rimians born or raised here from a younger age are not as athletic. But back in their homeland, in those dry and desert conditions… I can see it happening. After all, their bone structure and musculature are designed for such feats.”

  “And you didn’t know?”

  “Most of the Rimians he deals with are domesticated,” the Rimian interjected. “Rarely do any of us rise up and challenge his kind. Let’s just say this is one of the traits we’ve tried to keep to ourselves, especially for occasions such as this.”

  “I’m baffled. And your knee?” I asked.

  The Rimian grimaced as he leaned into his bum leg. “Oh, it hurts like hell. But I’ve got a high pain threshold. I suppose the adrenaline played a part, as well. I had to get out of that house.”

  “And come here? For what… Oh.” My brain was ahead of me on this one, already sensing danger. He’d brought us out here in the open because he was not alone anymore. After all, Tristan had just told us we were being followed.

  Seconds later, the square was suddenly busy with about five dozen Red Thread faction members, most of them cloaked in dark red and carrying swords. Kalon cursed under his breath. “He lured us.”

  “What’s up with the weapons?” I replied, raising an eyebrow at the Rimian. “I thought you weren’t looking to hurt us.”

  “We don’t have to. Unless you make us,” the Rimian said, narrowing his eyes at me. “What’s it going to be? Will you let us walk out?”

  I looked at Kalon, who gave me a quick, almost unnoticeable wink. He then smirked at the Rimian. “You’re a traitor, conspiring against the Aeternae empire. Of course I’m not letting you walk out.”

  “There you have it,” the Rimian muttered, giving me a disappointed shrug. “You’re making us do this.”

  “Listen, pipsqueak,” Kalon snapped. “You might be faster than most Rimians here on Visio, but you’re not an Aeternae, and you’re not a vampire, either. Physically speaking, we still have the edge, and I’m more than happy to prove it.”

/>   I took a step forward, my gaze darting around at the Red Threads, and I felt emboldened by Kalon’s determination not to lose this particular fight. “How many throats will I rip out before you fellas scramble backward and run off? Are your lives worth nothing, compared to your friend here?” I asked, nodding at the Rimian. “Leave now, and you’ll get to see another sunrise. Stay and be stupid, and you’ll die.”

  “Well put, Esme,” Kalon told me, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

  I wasn’t sure what exactly was funny. Even between the two of us, we were still outnumbered, especially since the Red Threads carried weapons. I would’ve given anything to have our shuttle close by, right about now. I would’ve sprung the pulverizers on their asses, no holds barred.

  “Take them down,” the Rimian said. “Show them what the Red Threads can do.”

  In an instant, the faction members tightened ranks around Kalon and me, while the Rimian stood back, watching with childlike curiosity. They came at us, many at once, swinging their swords and going straight for our heads.

  Within minutes, we were fighting them off in droves, dodging and ducking, swerving around and blocking hits by slapping the blades away. It was insane, my reflexes sharpened and constantly challenged. I no longer had time to wonder where Tristan was.

  I got cut several times, but I managed to take three faction members down. Blood glazed my bare hands, but I didn’t stop. Neither did Kalon. A Red Thread flew past me and rammed into the others, taking them down like bowling pins. They didn’t stand a chance to get back up, as Kalon grabbed a dropped sword and started chopping off their limbs.

  Screams filled the square, but they kept coming. The more we took down, the more took their places, swinging and cursing and determined to kill us. If I’d been impressed by the Rimian earlier—even considering letting him go, at the risk of drawing Kalon’s ire—I was now dying to snap his neck in two. Like a twig on my knee. The son of a bitch had gone from attempted kidnapping to full-on murder in the span of mere minutes.

  A shadow cut through the thinning crowd in front of us. There was a scream. Then another. And a third. As the shadow bolted around, they shrieked, going down like cornstalks.

  “Esme!” my brother shouted.

  “Tristan!” I replied, struggling between three Red Threads. My heart swelled and jumped with excitement, newfound energy surging through my body. I started kicking and slashing with my claws. I snatched a couple of swords and laid waste to my incoming opponents.

  Blood sprayed across my field of vision. Another Rimian screamed. The shadow moved so fast, we could barely see it. “What the…” I murmured, when Kalon reached my side, small cuts covering his right cheek.

  “It’s Valaine. Stop moving,” he said, gripping my wrist.

  Every instinct told me to keep hitting, to kill as many of these Red Threads as possible. But it quickly became evident that my efforts were no longer needed. I was watching Valaine at her full potential, moving so fast that our eyes couldn’t even register it. It was strange… unnatural… faster than vampires and other Aeternae. She reminded me of the Perfects and the Arch-Perfects, in fact.

  She zigzagged through the scattered clusters of Rimians, taking them down with just her claws. She caught one by the back of his neck and tore it open with her teeth, blood pouring down her chin as she scowled at the few Red Threads left standing.

  They moved back, their eyes wide with horror. Our Rimian was already gone. The others were on the ground, half of them dead and the other half severely injured or maimed. I bore responsibility for at least one third of the casualties—not that I was proud of such an achievement. Impressed? Not even. I’d had Kalon, Tristan, and the weirdly fabulous Valaine on my side.

  Now that she had finally stopped, Valaine looked at us, her gaze so black and vicious, I could no longer see the whites of her eyes. Something had happened to her. Something she maybe kept hidden on a regular basis.

  “Deep breaths,” Kalon said, approaching her with great care, while Tristan and I just stared at them. “Deep breaths, Valaine. In and out. You know the drill.”

  She growled at him, her fangs glistening with what I could only describe as feral hunger. She wasn’t done yet. Or at least, part of her wasn’t done yet. She’d pushed herself into this beast-like mode, and she was having a hard time coming down. I’d seen it in young vampires and werewolves before—it was difficult to control that inner animal sometimes.

  “Valaine,” Tristan said, drawing her attention.

  She struggled to regain control, her breathing ragged and uneven. For the briefest of moments, I saw tiny black veins around her eyes—a faint pulse that vanished as quickly as it appeared. Seconds passed in the heaviest of silences as the three of us waited for her to come back to us.

  Blood congealed on her hands. Crimson streaks dashed across her face, rapidly drying and darkening to a dull brown. Every intake of crisp afternoon air seemed to have a calming effect, and she gradually regained her senses.

  “I… I think I might’ve overdone it,” she whispered, giving Kalon a most concerned look. He wasn’t shocked, which led me to believe he’d seen this before. This wasn’t the first time that Valaine had turned into an absolute killing machine, and I had a feeling she had spent most of her life holding back. I could easily understand how she’d won tournaments in the Blood Arena. No one stood a chance if she unleashed her full, unadulterated wrath.

  I had to admit, I feared and admired her at the same time.

  “It’s okay,” Kalon replied, smiling softly. “We would’ve been screwed without you.”

  Valaine glanced at Tristan, who stood by me, one hand resting on my shoulder. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Tristan sighed. “You did what you had to do.”

  “What exactly is it that you did, though?” I asked, sort of knowing the answer already. I wanted Valaine to clarify it for me, however, because I had never seen an Aeternae act like this before. What I thought I knew about her species clearly wasn’t everything—and the same went for the Rimians.

  “I… It’s very hard to put into words,” Valaine said. “I sort of unleashed myself.”

  “We all have a dark side,” Kalon added. “We rarely show it because it’s very difficult to snap back from it. I suppose it’s a primal version of ourselves, where the body takes over. We’re stronger and faster, but also more violent.”

  “I couldn’t help myself,” Valaine replied. “I saw all these people attacking you two, and I just lost it.”

  “You mean to tell me all Aeternae have this beast mode?” I asked, trying to process the information, trying to picture Kalon manifesting himself like this.

  “Yes. But like I said, and as you must’ve seen for yourself, it’s not a pretty sight,” he replied. “We consider it a kind of letting go of ourselves. It’s intense and consuming, too. It’s best to stay away from an Aeternae if they’re like this, but Valaine and I have known each other for a long time. She doesn’t scare me anymore.” He shot her a reassuring smile.

  Nodding faintly, I turned and hugged my brother. “You two showed up right on time.”

  “We were in the area, as it turns out,” Tristan replied, his brow furrowed. “We saw the Red Threads coming after you from the streets. I wasn’t sure you knew they were following you, hence the quick Telluris message.”

  “It was our duty to join you,” Valaine said.

  “Well, I’m glad you did!” I chuckled. “So, what have we here?” Looking around, I counted about twenty Rimians we could send to prison. They were the only ones still breathing, and most were in desperate need of serious medical assistance.

  Kalon took out a small whistle from his vest pocket. As he blew, no sound came out, but my ears tingled, nonetheless. Whatever that contraption was, it worked on a different frequency. Minutes later, the square was inundated with silver guards, each looking more alarmed than the other as they observed the scene.

&
nbsp; “These are Red Thread faction members,” Kalon said, loudly enough for all the soldiers to hear. “Take them to prison and make sure they’re given the care they need in order to live. We’ll be interrogating them soon enough!”

  “Yes, milord!” one of the guards replied.

  “And try to identify the dead ones, as well. We need to understand how deep this conspiracy goes. The last thing we need is another enemy right now with the Darklings running loose,” Kalon added, visibly disgusted. “Raid their houses, all their neighborhoods, if you have to. We must nip this in the bud.”

  The guards all nodded and quickly got to work. They had a mobile medical unit brought in, loading the Rimians onto stretchers and carrying them to the prison, whose silver-gray towers rose past the Nalorean neighborhood. Fortunately, they didn’t have a long walk ahead of them.

  “There was another attempt on Valaine’s life, as you know,” Tristan said. We’d briefed each other in handfuls of words along the way and throughout the day, using our Telluris connection. Kalon and I nodded, each of us giving Valaine a concerned look. “We’re counting three in less than a day.”

  “It’s probably going to get worse,” I replied. I’d yet to tell my brother about our conversation with the Rimian, so I went ahead and brought him up to speed regarding the Darklings and their desire to sacrifice a certain Aeternae in order to stop the Black Fever.

  “Oh, dear.” Valaine gasped when I was done relaying what the Rimian had told us. The soldiers were still moving around us, the occasional whimper or pained moan coming from the Red Threads they gathered off the ground. “They’re fanatics. They’re insane. What will killing me accomplish? It’s not how the Black Fever works! It’s a virus.”

  “We all know that. They probably know it, too, but they just don’t care for facts,” I said. “That’s the thing with fanatics and murderous cults. They fabricate their own reality to justify their killer instincts, and they never set foot outside that carefully defined area.”

  “And now we’ve got the Red Threads, too?” Tristan asked. “I swear, Visio looked really nice in the beginning.”