The Chariot: Brothers at Arms

by Desiree Lee

  "It is and I do not want it anymore. I will put it to an end Julio. I can only do that if you pledge the power of the beacon to me. Once the choice is made, there is a ritual to seal it."

  "What happens if I don't make a choice?"

  "We share the power equally and are still at impasse."

  Julio sat quietly for several long moments, mulling it over. “I'll do it,” he whispered. He hoped that once the war was ended, Michelle would forgive him. It made him heartsick to think that he had to choose the opposite side. He knew she would be angry with him, maybe never want to see him again. That possibility left him stricken but he had to risk it. He would risk his happiness, his love, to protect her. If the war continued, she would possibly die in it. He would rather have her alive and hate him than dead. Neither choice was ideal. Frankly, both of them sucked, but he chose the path that he thought would best protect her and the rest. He would own up to his responsibility as Keeper and make the tough decision, for her sake. For the sake of his love.

  "This you are certain of?” Pierre asked. “You are under no duress or coercion?"

  "It's been nothing but duress since the card arrived in my mailbox,” he gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I want this war to end. I don't want anybody else to die."

  "Unfortunately, there will probably be deaths in the final battle. I will try to get my brother to submit first. I too want to avoid any more casualties, but I must be pragmatic about it."

  Julio frowned. He knew Pierre was right. François was not likely to roll over and submit. He'd go down fighting. Michelle might still be in danger.

  Pierre stared at the Keeper, watching the man toil with his emotions. “You've grown fond of her,” he surmised. “François’ Seeker has made an impression on you."

  Julio looked up quickly, too quickly. His expression gave it all away.

  "We will do what we can to see that she is not harmed,” Pierre assured.

  "Thank you,” Julio whispered. He didn't know what could be done, but the fact that Pierre had offered bolstered his feelings. “Yes, I will do it."

  "I am relieved to hear you say that. You must bring the card here."

  Julio knew that Pierre could tell he didn't have it with him. The scent would have been stronger if he had. “I'll be back soon.” He stood and walked toward the front door.

  Pierre saw him to the door. “I will have preparations made by the time you return."

  Julio drove a different route home. He did not want to encounter anybody from François’ House. The less conflict at this point, the better things would be. He especially did not want to explain his choice to Michelle. Not yet at least. He wanted to make sure it was completed before he told her. He was relieved to find his house was devoid of vampires when he arrived. Michelle must still be at François', he thought. He retrieved the card from the place where he'd hid it and hurried back to his truck. The drive back to Pierre's house seemed to take longer than it should. Julio chalked it up to nerves. He still had doubts niggling in the back of his mind about this, but he could see no other viable solution. François had not offered a solution to end the war. Pierre had.

  Rebecca opened the door for him before he even had the chance to knock. She showed him in to the living room. Every chair was full, four vampires sat on the divan and numerous ones were still standing. A hush fell over the crowded room when Julio entered.

  "Do I know how to kill a room or what?” He gave a nervous chuckle. Everyone stared at him incredulously. Rebecca giggled, but she was the only one who did.

  Pierre stepped forward and gestured for Julio to come closer. “Join us Julio. Tonight is a grand night for this House. Forgive our overwhelmed silence. Some of my House have never been so close to the card before. It is very powerful."

  "Even to the non-Seekers?"

  "Yes, every vampire here can smell it when it is this close. Now if you would please, place the card on the table in the center of the room."

  Julio paused to take note of the glass-topped cocktail table. The outer edge of the table was lined with candles, but he paid particular attention to the runes drawn on to the glass for the occasion. He pulled the card out of the envelope and laid it in the center of the runes. He stepped back and looked to Pierre for guidance. “I don't know this ritual,” he admitted.

  "I had hoped that the prior Keeper might have informed you, but it matters not. Both François and I have copies of the incantations just in case.” He handed a weathered piece of paper over to Julio.

  The Keeper wondered how long this paper had been around. He guessed that it was the original record of the spell, created when the card was imbued two and a half centuries ago. His mind reeled at the thought of holding a document in his bare hands that pre-dated the Declaration of Independence.

  "When you are ready, you must read the first passage."

  Julio nodded and read it over silently at first so he would not make a mistake. He had known enough from his mother that magic was not to be trifled with. If he mispronounced even one word, the effect could be disastrous. His throat suddenly felt dry. His heartbeat quickened with nervousness. He took a slow breath to try to calm himself, knowing that the vampires could tell what he was feeling. He jolted as he felt someone touch his elbow, then blushed, embarrassed. Rebecca was standing there, offering him a glass of water. He accepted it with murmured thanks, taking a gulp. It was more helpful than he could've imagined. The time had arrived. No more beating about the bush. Rebecca deftly took the glass from him and Julio looked over the paper once more, reciting the first passage with as much assurance as he could muster.

  He glanced from the paper to the table as he recited the archaic words. The candles flickered ominously. The power of the spell tangibly crept over his skin, prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. When he had finished the passage, he offered the paper back over to Pierre. Everyone in the room had remained silent during his recitation. Nobody dared interfere with the ritual, though he could feel the weight of their stares.

  Pierre accepted the paper without a word. He read over the next part quickly, though he could recite it from rote if necessary. His deep voice resounded throughout the room as he continued the ritual. The candles flickered more violently and the card began to tremor atop the glass. The runes cast a soft glow about it. This was strong magic and everybody involved knew it.

  When Pierre spoke the final word, the candles were snuffed out in unison by some unseen force. The room was in total darkness, save the glowing runes on the table. The glow softly faded until it too was gone.

  Julio stiffened, but did not move. He heard shuffled footsteps and then a few moments later someone spoke the word “Lights.” He closed his eyes as the lights were turned on, slowly opening them to allow time to adjust to the brightness.

  The card rested in the center of the table, where Julio had placed it. He noticed that the color of the card was slightly different. The change was not drastic, but it had definitely taken on a new hue. “The ritual changed the card."

  "Yes,” Pierre affirmed. “The prior color designated that it was attuned to François. Now it is attuned to me. You are still the Keeper though. It is your responsibility to hold this card until the next Turning Year.” Julio caught the glance from Pierre and knew that the master vampire did not intend for the next Turning Year to come to pass. He wanted to end the war before then. It was not a certainty so the words were appropriate.

  Julio reached down and collected the card, tucking it back in to the envelope. It was done. He'd chosen a side. His mind had gone over all the reasons why he did it. Why did his heart ache so badly then?

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Nine

  "NO!” François roared as he felt the power slip from his grasp. He knew immediately that Pierre had completed the ritual. His voice bellowed throughout the entire house, jarring everybody's nerves. It was difficult to remember the last time François was this angry. Nobody was sure why he had suddenly turned so foul tempered
. Nobody but Michelle, that is.

  She knelt down beside her bed in a near reverent pose. Bowing her head to the quilt, she sobbed. She couldn't believe this was happening. Julio had crossed the line. He had chosen the enemy. Why? Why did he believe Luke? What had Luke done to him to coerce him in to siding with Pierre? The questions tore through her mind like a hurricane. In the end, it did not really matter. She would not be alive long enough to find out the answers.

  She stood up and walked around her room, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. She picked up the few knickknacks she owned and set them back down. She'd give them to Avra. The woman had always liked them. Her clothes would either be burned or distributed to the other females in the house who could wear them. More than likely they'd be burned. It would help eliminate traces of her scent in the house. She stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair. She straightened her shirt and pushed her boobs up a bit to give them a more centered look. She knew she did not have much time. She had to face the consequences. She failed to capture the Keeper. She would die for her inadequacy.

  She knew before she had even left Sacramento that this was a possibility but she had refused to believe it would actually come true. She had lived in denial. After she was the first to arrive at Julio's house, she felt her victory was set in stone. How could it all have slipped away from her so quickly? She and Julio had shared so much of each other. They had shared their bodies! How could he throw that away so carelessly? Of course, it was just a matter of getting his rocks off. She knew that was not true. More had passed between them in the days she lived at his house, hadn't it? Hadn't she been the one who had supported him when his mother died? She helped him deal with the police and the funeral home. How could that mean nothing to him? How could he do this to her?

  She knew better than to put makeup on because her emotions would only cause it to wash away. She had to face the fact that she failed. Michelle was not prone to failure. It was an alien concept to her. Still it was undeniable. The power of the card was now flowing to Pierre's House. Her task had been in vain.

  She picked up her cell phone and dialed Julio's number. His answering machine picked up and she steeled her resolve, trying not to let her tone reflect the depth of her despair. “I can tell whose side you have chosen. I don't know why you did this Julio. I don't understand your choice. I thought I had made it clear that Pierre is the enemy. I am sorry that I failed you.” She paused to consider her next words. “I just wanted to say that despite it all, I do not regret what we shared together. I only wish I had more time to tell you how I really feel. I go now to my fate. Farewell, Keeper. I wish you well in your duty and your life.” She hung up quickly, but knew that she had choked up on the last sentence. She switched the phone off and placed it on top of her bureau. It could be assigned to someone else now. She walked slowly out of the bedroom, in to the hallway. She could tell that François was in his own bedroom so she started walking that way.

  Avra was in the hallway and stopped her. “Don't go to him yet. He is not ready to deal with you. He's feeding first."

  "He won't wait forever,” Michelle replied blandly.

  "No, but he wants time to think before he acts. Otherwise he'll do something rash that he'll regret."

  "I am to die for my failure, Avra. What could he do more rash than killing me?"

  "He could kill you painfully and without mercy if you go to him now. You would suffer as he ripped your soul from your body. Or you can let him calm down and he will do it quickly, humanely.” Avra's eyes brimmed with tears. She did not enjoy the idea of Michelle's impending death but she would not kid herself in to believing it was not a possibility. She knew very well what the punishment for failure was. She knew it, but she did not have to like it.

  Michelle nodded to Avra and left the house. On one hand, this only prolonged her dire fate. Every minute she had to wait was another torture. Now she knew how the condemned felt on their final walk to meet the executioner. On the other hand, it gave her time, precious time.

  It's funny how swiftly time became my most precious commodity, she thought. Before today I had eternity ahead of me. Now ... her thought trailed off.

  Even so, she could use her final moments to bring closure; to get the answer to the burning question. Why had Julio betrayed her?

  She took to the sky as it was the fastest mode of travel. Getting to Julio's house took just moments. His truck was not in the driveway. He must still be at Pierre's. All she could do was wait and hope she did not run out of time.

  * * * *

  Julio's mind was in a hazy cloud as he drove through the city streets. He needed time to think but his rationale suffered. If he couldn't cogitate, then he simply wanted to forget, if only for a little while. He pulled in to the parking lot of a club. He wasn't sure why he'd chosen this club in particular. He'd been to it before and liked the music and atmosphere, but it had been a while since he'd come here.

  He walked inside, his nostrils tensing at the acrid odor of cigarettes and alcohol. He made his way through the crowd, to the bar. “Jack and Coke,” he ordered. “Make it a double.” The bartender gave a nod of acknowledgment as he set about making the drink. Julio placed a 10-spot on the bar, grabbing the drink as soon as it was served. He turned his back to the bar and stared absently at the crowd. He wondered if there were any vampires in the club. Michelle had instructed him on modern hunting techniques employed by vampires. It was a lesson he had not forgotten. He decided he did not want to think about vampires right now and swilled down the rest of his drink. Would he even be able to tell a vampire from a mortal?

  His gaze wandered until it fell upon a couple dancing. The woman was obviously intoxicated, the man apparently less so. He kept leaning in, kissing her neck. It was not so unusual, but Julio kept his eyes on the duo. He saw the man kiss her neck deeper, his lips pressed tightly to her throat.

  How fucking brazen. Right here in the club. Julio knew it was a feed. The position of the vampire's lips on the woman's throat was unmistakable. He turned away, looking for the bartender. “Another Jack and Coke, double,” he ordered and put down more money on the bar to pay for it.

  A few drinks later, Julio's consternation began to wane. He had not been at the club long but had downed each drink so quickly, the effect hit him hard. He was buzzed. He wasn't sloshed yet, but getting close.

  "Julio? Is that you?” A voice cut through the loud music and ambient noise. Julio cringed inwardly. He recognized that voice.

  "Evelia, what are you doing here?"

  "What do you mean what am I doing here? What are you doing here? You don't come to this club no more."

  "What can I say? Life is shit,” he scowled. “Another,” he ordered from the bar.

  "How much have you drank?"

  "Not enough. What is this Evelia, the fucking Inquisition?"

  "What's the matter with you, Baby? What happened? You can tell me."

  Julio did not want to spill his guts to his ex, but he wasn't thinking clearly. The drink went down smoothly, plying more intoxicant in to his already affected body. “My mom died,” he blurted out without thinking.

  "Oh God, Baby, I'm so sorry.” Evelia slipped her arms around him. Julio hugged her back. He tried to think of so many reasons to reject her. Michelle came to the forefront of his woozy mind but he couldn't face Michelle. She'd hate him. He knew she'd hate him right now. “Let me get you home. You don't need to be here drowning yourself in booze,” Evelia said in a coddling tone. She gestured to a friend to join her. A petite woman nudged her way past people to get to Evelia. “Hey, I'm gonna take Julio home. I'll call you if I need a ride, ok? You'll be good without me?"

  "Sure, I'm good,” the woman nodded conspiratorially. “Hi Julio,” she smiled.

  "Hi Marisol,” he gave a half wave.

  Evelia slid her arm around the small of Julio's back, leading him toward the exit. She reached down, sliding her hand in his pocket, retrieving his keys. “You're too fucked up to drive. I didn'
t drink yet so I'm still good."

  Julio didn't argue. He knew he was unsafe to drive so he wouldn't argue with her driving him home. It beat paying for a cab and coming back later for his truck. He waited at the passenger door until she unlocked it, then got in and fumbled with the seat belt. Evelia leaned over to help him buckle in and then she started the truck, driving toward Julio's house.

  "I miss you, Baby. We were good together. Why don't you call me?"

  "We weren't good together,” Julio stated flatly. He was too boozed up to be tactful. “I appreciate you driving me home though. Thanks.” He closed his eyes so that he wouldn't become nauseated by the sight of buildings and streetlamps whizzing by.

  "How can you say that? Whatever, I'm not gonna argue with you when you're drunk. I'm sorry to hear about your mom, Julio. I really am. I liked your mom."

  "No you didn't,” he argued. He knew that Evelia never got on well with his mother. Lenore had always tried to warn her son about the woman. After the break-up, Julio realized he should have heeded his mother's warning sooner.

  "Why you gotta be hating?"

  "Evelia, face it. We're through. It's over between us, kaput. I am thankful that you are getting me home safe but that's it. I don't want to get back together. I just want to go home and sleep."

  Evelia frowned. “I don't get you Julio."

  "Evelia, you're too clingy. You're smothering. I can't take that. I told you that before. Just take me home and then call Marisol to pick you up, or take a cab."

  Evelia fell silent for the rest of the drive. Julio half-wondered if she would stop and leave him stranded somewhere. Surprisingly, she didn't.

  Michelle watched from the front porch as Julio's truck pulled in to the driveway, but she could immediately see that it was not Julio driving. She shook visibly as she watched a woman get out of the driver's side, walk around to the passenger side and slide an arm around Julio, walking toward the front door with him. Once the duo were close, Michelle stepped out of the shadowy area, letting them get a full look at her in the moonlight.