by Amy Sumida
Banning roared like a lion—his favorite battle cry—and led his blooders forward. My consorts and their soldiers followed with my Kyanite knights, and the charge caught the attention of the ghearas. They grinned in relief and rallied themselves; pushing forward as our side pushed back. The Nachzehrer were trapped; they just didn't have the brain-power to realize it.
Shall we finish this, my love? Kyanite asked.
I smiled in answer, and the power of my jewel surged through me; enhancing my spellsinger magic with a brilliant blue blast. The riveting, thumping beat of Night Argent's “Widowmaker” slammed through my chest and echoed into the hall. I closed my eyes and sank into the music; envisioning what I needed from the ruinous lyrics. They told the tale of a callous woman who seduced men into loving her and then left them brokenhearted. The words themselves were about killing; vicious swipes of blades and the digging of graves. I used those violent words like weapons and gave the Nachzehrer a true death; a mercy if you ask me.
As Shining One magic wrapped around the zombie-blooders and steel hacked at them, my song swept up from beneath them like a phantom and seeped into the undead softly. The Nachzehrer stumbled under the sway of my music and started to drop to the floor; their heads simply falling from their bodies. The others fought on until we had stopped them all. Within a few minutes, we had put down every last Nachzehrer there.
King Sorin strode through his gura, right to Banning, and grabbed Banning into a tight hug. “Thank you, Son.”
Chapter Ten
Banning backed out of Sorin's embrace stiffly.
“I came here because we were just attacked by these things.” Banning waved a hand at the mess. “I thought you had sent them.”
“I don't want you dead, Banning,” Sorin said in shock. “I would never send such creatures after you.”
“No; only other blooders.” Banning grimaced. “It was not an irrational conclusion on our part.”
“Your assumption brought you here, so I suppose I'm grateful for it,” Sorin said.
“Regardless of the past,” one of the ghearas said as he stepped forward, “we're grateful for the intervention; you saved our lives. Thank you.” The man held his hand out to Banning, and they shook. “I'm Phillip; it's an honor and a great relief to meet you, Prince Banning.”
“Drop the 'Prince,' and I will be relieved as well,” Banning said wryly.
The blooder's eyes went wide as he looked at Sorin. “You weren't exaggerating.”
“No; my son is recalcitrant.” Sorin sighed. “But his friends are steadfast. Thank you all for helping us.”
“I don't see Longchamp,” I noted instead of accepting the gratitude.
I know; it was rude, but Sorin had tried to kill me once. I think I'm entitled to a little rudeness. Honestly, if Banning hadn't gone in to save him, I would have done just what Banning accused me of wanting to do; stood outside and waited for the Nachzehrer to finish Sorin off; one monster killing another. It seemed a fitting end for the bastard. Although, I have to admit that I would have regretted letting the other ghearas die; it wasn't their fault that Sorin was a murdering bastard.
“Randall was taken down by the first wave,” one of the ghearas said grimly.
“The first wave?” Torin asked. “How many of these groups have you fought off?”
“This is the second,” Sorin said. “We've battled them all night.”
“Shit,” Gage hissed. “I'm impressed; good stamina.”
“You find the strength when your life's in jeopardy,” one of the ghearas said.
“But now, we could all use a rest,” Phillip said. “And a shower. Not in that order.”
“Go on, all of you,” Sorin said gently. “We'll deal with this mess later. For now, let's take some time to recuperate and process what's happened. I'll see to our guests.”
“What about the staff?” Banning asked.
Sorin shook his head. “We are all that's left. The staff valiantly fought beside us.”
“Son of a bitch!” Banning cursed.
From what I could quickly count, the Original Gura was down to roughly twenty blooders. I don't know how many ghearas Sorin had gathered, but I did know that his staff had been massive; definitely over a hundred blooders.
“I'll stay and help with the guests,” Phillip offered. “Hospitality must be extended, even in times such as this, and especially to those who've come to our aid.”
“Thank you, Phillip, but I can see to them. I have a feeling they won't require much in the way of refreshments,” Sorin said. “You fought fiercely today; see to your own comfort.”
Phillip nodded to Sorin and then to us as he passed by.
“Come with me,” Sorin said. “Let's find somewhere untainted by death to sit and talk.”
“We can clean this, Your Majesty,” Cole—one of my knights—offered me. “A little magic will have this place sparkling in no time.”
“Thank you,” I said to him, and then I looked to my Shining One consorts. “Now, why didn't you two offer to help me clean up Crouching Lion?”
“We were a bit drained after that ordeal, little bird,” Torin said softly. “Not to make light of what you do, but I believe it took less from you than it would have from us.”
“Okay; I guess I buy that.” I huffed.
“Thank you; that's a huge help,” Sorin said to Cole.
Cole nodded crisply to Sorin, and then the Shining One soldiers from all of our kingdoms teamed up to clean up the dining hall. The rest of us followed Sorin to his private library. Sunlight was filtering in through a soaring, stained-glass window; making soft patterns on the furniture as if all was right in the world. Silly sunlight; didn't it know there had been a zombie blooder attack?
Sorin went to sit in a wingback chair, and a swath of red light coated him. For a moment, he appeared to be bathed in blood, and then his face shifted into someone else entirely; another man with blood covering him. All I could see were his eyes, and they looked like Torin's—that same intense, sapphire blue—but they felt different. Before I could analyze the vision, it was gone.
I flinched at the strange incident, but wrote it off to exhaustion; it was funny how your eyes could play tricks on you. I shook away the chill the vision had given me and took a seat on one of the leather couches. I didn't say anything; I thought it best to let Banning handle Sorin. If I spoke, I might “accidentally” sing something fatal and bring my vision of a blood-bathed Sorin to life.
“I'm sorry, Son; I should have warned you,” Sorin said tiredly in his thick, Romanian accent. “I honestly didn't think this situation would reach America.”
“Situation?” Banning asked with surprise. “This has happened to others?”
“Guras in Bulgaria and Greece have been hit,” Sorin said soberly. “Someone is taking blooders from the area, turning them into Nachzehrer, and then setting them loose on their guras. I was just starting to investigate when we were hit.”
Sorin picked up a leather folder from the floor beside his chair and handed it to Banning.
“This is all the information I have,” he said.
Banning flipped through a few sheets of paper and frowned. “This isn't much.”
“I know.” Sorin sighed. “But I will find out who's behind this; I promise you.”
“Our gura wasn't attacked by its own people,” Banning said. “Those monsters were brought in to kill us.”
“It looks as if the Nachzehrer who survive each attack are added to the next,” Sorin said. “A few of our staff were taken and changed, but it was done just before the attack so that we didn't have time to notice.”
“What has the European Falca said about this?” Banning asked.
“They're looking into it,” Sorin whispered.
“Looking into it?” Banning gaped at his blooder father. “We have the most widespread, sophisticated network of intelligence in the world. It's one of our greatest strengths. How do we not already know who's behind this?”
�
��It appears that our strength has failed us,” Sorin said tiredly. “Whoever is behind this, they're good; very good and very powerful. To change so many of our people into Nachzehrer is difficult enough, but then to control them and send them to a specific location?” He shook his head. “Those first few were of the gura they attacked, and that is a Nachzehrer's instinct—to go after its family—but after that, they would have to be controlled and herded. That is a necromancer of astronomical ability.”
Banning's gura shifted uneasily; staring at each other with worried looks. We had come here expecting to fight one enemy and wound up fighting another. Now, we were faced with the possibility that this wasn't a single battle, but a war. A war against an unknown beneather of astronomical ability.
“How many guras have been hit?” Banning asked.
“As far as I know, ours brings the count to twenty-six,” Sorin said.
“Twenty-six?” Banning whispered.
My consorts and I exchanged horrified glances as Banning's gura made shocked sounds.
“Is that number significant?” Sorin asked.
“It's the number of blooders I lost at the Battle of Primeval,” Banning murmured.
“Is that the Jotun fight that Randal spoke of?” Sorin asked with interest.
Banning nodded distractedly; his gaze going distant.
“That's an odd coincidence,” I agreed. “But that's all it can be. There's no way someone would target that many guras to mirror the death count of blooders in a war on Tír na nÓg. First off, they'd have to know the number, and there isn't anyone who possesses that information that I don't trust.”
“And second, your gura brings it to twenty-seven, Ban,” Gage pointed out. “Let's not read things into this that aren't there; we're allowing ourselves to get spooked.”
The Blooders breathed a sigh of relief as Gage's reasoning landed soundly. He was right; we were all so spooked that we were jumping at shadows.
“I don't think this is about you, Son.” Sorin sat back in his chair and absently flicked a piece of flesh off one of the sausage curls of his hair. “The attacks seem to have begun in Greece. I was going to send a team down to look into it, but now they're...”
Sorin closed his eyes and covered them with a pale hand.
“I feel your pain,” Banning said. “Both as a gheara who has lost nearly half my gura, and as a man who spent most of my life around the people who died today.”
“Thank you,” Sorin whispered as he moved his hand aside. “I've lost so many this past year.”
The jab was a little shocking after the commiserating tone of the conversation. But Banning didn't look surprised; he quickly parried with one of his own.
“As I just said; I have too,” Banning said pointedly. “And that nearly included the love of my life; for the second time.”
Sorin sighed. “I suppose it's time to let this go.”
“Your quest to get me on the throne?” Banning asked in surprise.
“What else?” Sorin waved his hands out dramatically.
“Thank you,” Banning said in a partially relieved and partially surly tone.
“I only ask one little thing in exchange.”
“Oh; here we go.” Banning tossed his hands into the air.
“We just saved your life,” Torin pointed out. “You're already in our debt; you have no right to ask for more.”
“Banning defended his king,” Sorin said shrewdly. “He was honor-bound to do so. There is no debt.”
“Maybe not to him,” I growled as I leaned forward in my seat. “But you sure as shit owe us. And my price is that you leave Banning alone.”
“What you chose to do is not on my shoulders, Elaria,” Sorin said with a little smile.
“That's it.” I stood up. “I say we lock him in a coffin and bury him in a swamp.”
“What do you want, Sorin?” Banning asked as he waved me down.
I sat down in a huff and crossed my arms to glare at Count Dracula.
“Help me find who did this,” Sorin pleaded. “Take over for the team I was going to send to Greece.”
Banning looked at us.
“If you insist on going, I'm not going to let you do it alone,” I said. “But honestly, I've got more important shit to deal with.”
“More important than the extermination of an entire race?” Sorin asked.
I scowled at him.
“You think this is an attack on the Blooder Kingdom as a whole?” Banning asked Sorin.
“That's what I suspect.” Sorin nodded. “This is too large. And if you were attacked in Kansas, that must mean there were other incidents in the US.”
“Maybe you should give the European Falca another call,” Declan suggested to Sorin. “And then all the other Falcas.”
Sorin's eyes widened, and he said something in Romanian that sounded vicious. I was pretty sure I had just learned my first Romanian curse word.
“I should have done that immediately.” Sorin pulled a cellphone out of an inner pocket of his jacket and dialed. “This is King Sorin Iliescu,” he said arrogantly. Then he frowned. “Yes; I'll hold.”
I snickered. Yes; I was being childish. I refer you back to my earlier statement about this man nearly murdering me.
“Yes,” Sorin said crisply. “Yes. What? That's not possible. I have twenty-three survivors. Yes; they're all ghearas. No, I can't spare them; they are all that remains of my gura.” Sorin scowled. “Prince Banning arrived in time to assist us. Yes; very well. Goodbye.”
“That didn't sound good,” Gage said.
“It wasn't.” Sorin looked a little shell-shocked. “The Falcas are in hiding. Guras are being systematically wiped out everywhere. The US, the UK, Australia, Europe, even fucking Canada. Our people are being slaughtered, and we are being used as the weapon for our own destruction.”
A shiver went down my spine. I had never liked blooders. But then I had met Banning and his gura. He had proved to me that not all blooders were selfish parasites; that there were good and bad among them, just as with any group. My previous opinion, however, had been a popular one. Most beneathers looked down on Blooders. Blooders weren't true supernaturals, as far as they were concerned. They lived by taking life from others; that made them a virus, not a legitimate race. Created instead of born; Blooders were like Frankenstein's monster, except with the capability to make more of themselves. To most beneathers, humans ranked higher than Blooders; at least humans were as they were meant to be. I could go on, but my point is that if we had to start a list of who would want to kill all the Blooders, it would be a long one. Santa's Naughty List kind of long.
But my name wouldn't be on that list. Quite a few blooders were a part of my family now, and the thought of their entire race being decimated was chilling.
“This is the one time when I would have liked to have been wrong,” Sorin whispered. “I was worried about losing the Original Gura, but now it looks as if the Original may be one of the few to survive. How ironic.”
“Beneathers have always tolerated Blooders,” I said. “What's changed?”
“What do you mean?” Sorin asked me.
“Has there been any blooder incidents that may have pissed off someone powerful?” I clarified.
“Blooder incidents?” Sorin asked and then laughed. “As much as there are Loup incidents or Drachen incidents.”
“Anything out of the ordinary?” I tried again. “Something significant.”
“No; not that I'm aware of.” Sorin went sober. “I have no leads for you, other than Greece. But will you help us? Please?”
Banning looked at me, and I looked at my other consorts.
“You said they came to our aid,” I pointed out to Declan and Torin. “Blooders helped save Tír na nÓg; shouldn't we help to save their race?”
“It looks as if your bravery shall be repaid on a much grander scale,” Torin said to the Banning's blooders. “I hope your race learns of what you've done for them; how you've won them the help of th
e Shining Ones.”
“I will make sure of it,” Sorin vowed.
Banning's gura grinned and accepted their due proudly, while his Blooder father closed his eyes in relief. If I didn't know for certain that Sorin was a faithless bastard, I would have thought that he was praying.
Chapter Eleven
Before we did anything else, Banning sent his blooders out to search the area around the mansion. Our last search hadn't been fruitful, but you never know; maybe the necromancer had gotten sloppy. While they were out scouring, we intended to discuss our plan.
But first, we had to deal with Sorin.
“Now, is anyone going to tell me how such young blooders are able to withstand sunlight?” Sorin asked.
We all looked at each other carefully.
“Another benefit of helping the Shining Ones,” Torin finally answered for all of us. “And don't ask how it was done; I will not tell you.”
I nodded to Torin; that was a nice vague answer; implying enchantment and the fact that it couldn't be done again without Shining One help, and all without lying.
“It seems that I've fostered the wrong friendships,” Sorin mused.
“Was there anyone on watch last night who survived?” I asked him.
“What?” Sorin looked confused.
“Last night,” I reminded him; steering him away from the possibility of Shining One spells. “Did any of your guards on duty survive?”
“Oh.” Sorin frowned and thought about it. “No; I don't believe so. But the Nachzehrer were spotted quickly. The surrounding area is kept clear for a reason.”
“Did anyone mention seeing someone with the Nachzehrer?” Torin asked. “Someone alive?”