by Laken Cane
“I don’t know. I don’t know what anyone can do.” He looked at her, and his normally calm eyes were full of dark anguish. “But you have to help me. This will wipe us out. If the humans find out—”
“Your coven will be purged.” And fuck if she wasn’t sick of purging vampires. “I’ll take this to the Annex, Simon. I have no choice. Eugene Parish is a friend of the Others. He has the resources to help.”
“No. It doesn’t appear to be affecting humans—only Others. But panic will spread and it will be…chaotic.”
“It’ll be a fucking free for all. I know. But—”
“If we go to ground, Rune, you will not find us.”
“Don’t run. I won’t let him kill you. If he wants to purge, I’ll warn you first. Then you can hide out somewhere close until we get this shit figured out.”
He hesitated.
“Don’t run, Simon,” she said, her voice hard. “You’ll end up destroying the entire vampire world if you do.”
“If you don’t help us find a cure, we’re already destroyed.”
“I will help. I’ll do everything I can.”
“Then swear it.” He put a hand on her arm. “Give me your word we will not be destroyed by the Annex, and I’ll trust you.”
She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Dammit. She was getting soft. “I’ll do my best. But I can only swear that I’ll give you warning first, so you can hide. But if you do, don’t go far. The Annex can find a cure.”
She was sure of Eugene’s willingness to help. Why would he go through the trouble of chasing and purging vampires who, without his help, were dead anyway?
She started to leave but stopped at the doorway. “More of them are sick, aren’t they?”
Slowly, he nodded. “A dozen of them so far.”
“How are you getting the infection?”
“I believe the humans we bite are carriers. They are passing it to us.”
“We’ll need to test a couple of your humans.” She hesitated. “And your sick vampires, as well. I’ll let you choose which ones to bring in.”
She left him there, standing with his solemn face and hopeless future, and ran home to her own coven—her crew.
She ran home to Strad Matheson.
The berserker had become as much a part of her life as…feeding. And she needed him, whether she wanted to admit it out loud or not, just as badly.
He was waiting for her, standing still and watchful in the thick shadows of her porch.
She didn’t see him, not at first, but she felt him.
“God, Strad,” she murmured, and walked into his arms.
“What happened?” His voice rumbled into the night, dark and deep and strong.
The tightness inside her started to ease immediately.
She rubbed her cheek against his warmth, inhaling his familiar scent.
“Rune,” he said. “What the fuck happened?”
She sighed and pulled grudgingly away. “I’m okay. But the vampires are sick. They’re infected by something that’s causing them to rot from the inside. It’s spreading through Kelic’s coven.”
He nodded. “We’ll have to purge them.”
“No, Berserker. Eugene is not…”
Jeremy. Eugene is not Jeremy.
“He’s not,” Strad agreed. “But he’ll want them contained.”
“They’ll die anyway if he doesn’t help them. The Annex is pro-Other. He’ll help. Kelic said the humans aren’t getting infected—only the vampires.”
“How are they infecting each other?”
“The humans are carriers. When the vampires feed from them, they get the disease.” She shrugged. “At least that’s what Simon believes.”
“And how are these humans becoming carriers?”
“I have no idea. Eugene will have to test some samples. He’ll figure out what’s making them sick.”
His stare was steady, but held something she did not like.
She didn’t like it at all.
“All Others or just the vampires?” he asked.
“I’ll find out tomorrow. I don’t know anything other than what Simon told me, but this…” she stopped and put a hand to her chest. A vivid image of the bite junkie smearing blood across her lips slammed suddenly into her brain. “Oh.”
Strad closed his eyes.
“You already had the thought, didn’t you?” she whispered.
Why did she always forget she was a vampire?
Or...sort of a vampire.
He nodded, but said nothing. He looked at her, his eyes full of torment and resignation.
She shoved him hard enough to move him back. “Fuck you.”
“Sweetheart.” He rubbed his face, then crossed his arms. He didn’t look at her, perhaps unwilling for her to see in his eyes that he’d already given her up for…
“I can’t die,” she said.
He knotted his jaws.
“I can’t die, Berserker.”
There were many things worse than death, but she couldn’t think of one that would be worse than going through life rotting into a puddle of putrid jelly.
Brain in a jar.
She clutched her stomach. “God!”
He dragged her to him then, ignoring her resistance, and wrapped her in his arms. For an instant, he wiped out thoughts of the horror to come.
But only for an instant.
“No sign of Gunnar?” He squeezed her, hard.
She knew he was trying to help, knew he was trying to get her thoughts on something a little less horrifying.
“No. He’s gone.” She flinched at the unintentional sound of pain in her words.
Rot. Black, fucking rot.
But she might not even be infected. She could be immune.
So she pushed that worry deep into her mind and hid it beneath piles of other horrors.
She had to.
“He’ll come back,” the berserker said.
“Yeah. He’ll come back and you’ll find the little black-haired baby the Shop took.”
He said nothing, and the silence drew out, long and prickly. At least it seemed that way to her.
But she wouldn’t apologize to him for the words. She’d apologize if he found the baby. She’d apologize if the ghoul returned.
Until then, the berserker was out of luck.
And when her cell rang and she saw Elizabeth’s number on the display, she was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one.
Chapter Three
“Elizabeth,” Rune said. “Is it Fie?”
“Rune.” Elizabeth’s voice was tired and somehow confused.
Rune clutched her stomach with her free hand, drawing Strad’s sharp stare. He took her hand, and she didn’t draw away. Sudden fear spiked through her, and she knew she was about to hear something she really didn’t want to hear.
“Fuck, Elizabeth,” she murmured. “What is it?”
“Come in,” Elizabeth said. “Just come in.”
Gooseflesh arose on Rune’s skin, and she shuddered with reaction—reaction to what, she couldn’t have said—as she pushed her phone into her pocket.
“Rune,” Strad said. He stood with a stillness that let her know he was ready to kill someone—she just had to say the word.
“Something’s wrong with Fie,” she told him.
“I’ll drive,” he said, and didn’t seem surprised when she acquiesced. He knew from looking at her that she just wanted to huddle in a corner and weep.
“What the fuck is it?” he asked, as he drove too fast toward the Annex.
“I don’t know. But it’s something bad.”
And when wasn’t it? When wasn’t it something bad?
“You’re not completely healed.”
“I’m healed, Berserker. I’m just…” What? Weaker? More afraid? Her decapitation had kicked her ass.
She lifted her fingers to her throat and caressed the ridged scar, and a vivid image of black and red swirling chaos shot through her mind.
W
hatever had happened after her near death—her death—had broken her in ways she’d never been broken.
Had made her different.
And as the days went by, images of something she couldn’t quite grasp fluttered on the edge of her mind.
It left not a picture, but a feeling.
A feeling of something so overwhelming it took her breath.
Z.
Something…something Z.
And it had happened when she’d been lying in the Annex, trying to repair a severed head and a shredded heart.
What had she done?
She shook her head hard, trying to drive out the agonizing, furtive thought of something she couldn’t grab onto.
“Rune?” The berserker reached across the seat and took her hand.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.”
“Yeah. You are.”
But neither one of them believed it.
It took an eternity to reach the Annex.
They strode into the building and down the corridor toward Fie’s room, fear swirling so thick it was almost visible. They both loved the tiny necromancer.
She’d gone to hell and had never entirely returned. And she was just a child. Just a fucking baby.
Rune ran into the room, fully expecting to see the little girl lying still and unbreathing, encased in the netting that had taken over her body.
The netting had gradually closed and changed to resemble, as Elizabeth had said, a mud dauber’s nest. It had climbed slowly until it covered her throat, her face, her head.
And there she had lain, locked within that horrible shell.
But no longer.
Elizabeth was standing at Fie’s bedside. Eugene Parish stood at the other side, his eyes jumping with excitement.
“Rune,” Elizabeth cried. “I…look at her.”
Rune walked to the foot of the bed, and she looked.
Strad stood at her back and never made a sound.
Stefanie had changed.
“Hi, Rune,” she said. “I got out.”
Her voice was nasally and her words were not as clear as they’d once been, but Rune understood her.
“Yes,” Rune said, breathless. “You did, sweetheart.”
The little girl looked past Rune to the berserker. She held out her arms. “Pick me up.”
Eugene rubbed his hands together. “We’ll grow her some skin. Just as we did for you, Rune. Until then, a mask can be custom made—”
“Quiet,” Elizabeth hissed. “You will be quiet!”
Fie glanced at her foster mother, but was only interested for a second in Elizabeth’s distress. “Uncle B’serk,” she said. “Pick me up.”
“No, Stefanie,” Elizabeth said, her voice gentle.
Strad strode to the side of the bed and nudged Elizabeth out of the way. “I’m holding her.”
“She could get…she...” Elizabeth pushed her hair off her forehead with a shaking hand, unable to find the words. “You can’t move her.”
But he was the berserker, and he could do anything he wanted. He leaned over and scooped the child, blankets and all, into his arms.
He didn’t look at anyone. Not even Rune.
“How long has she been free of the net?” Rune asked.
Elizabeth glanced at her watch. “Two hours. She wouldn’t eat or drink. The techs drew blood.”
“We’ll know more when we have a look at her labs,” Eugene said. He stood quietly, his stare never leaving the child.
Fie wiggled against Strad’s chest. “Ow. You got too many hard things on.”
He went pale. “Are you okay?”
“Uh huh. Can I go outside?”
Fie needed the outdoors. She needed the air, no matter how chilly. She’d spent a lot of time trapped inside the hell of the mysterious net.
Rune shuddered. She’d have gone stark raving mad. She took a deep breath. “Let’s take her outside, Strad.”
He nodded and headed for the door, ignoring Elizabeth’s orders not to leave the room.
Rune put a hand on Elizabeth’s arm and opened her mouth to reassure the woman, but before she could get a word out, Fie saw herself in the reflective glass of the door.
She gave a small scream, almost hidden by the berserker’s curses as he realized the mistake he’d made.
He turned quickly and shielded the child from her reflection, but she struggled in his arms.
“Don’t,” she cried. “Let me see.”
Strad looked at Rune for help.
“Let her see,” Rune said. “Take her back, Berserker.”
And no one argued.
It was time to let the child come face to face with her monster.
Chapter Four
Fie stared at her image without moving. Just stared.
At last, she tilted her head, then lifted her fingers to her face. She watched as the child in the mirror made the exact same movements.
“That’s me?” she asked. “Am I scary?”
Elizabeth rushed to her. “No, darling. You’re beautiful.”
“Rune,” Fie ordered.
“Yeah?”
“Am I scary?”
Rune sighed. “Yeah, baby. You’re a little scary.”
Fie continued looking in the mirror, turning her face from side to side, trying to purse lips that were just barely there. Watching, fascinated, the little girl with the fleshless face.
Then she grew bored. “Can we go outside now?”
Strad, still a little too pale, opened his mouth, then closed it. He cleared his throat. “What’s happening?”
Rune grinned. “She’s a kid.”
“Wait,” Fie cried, as Strad started once more for the door. “I want my pink hair bow. Put it in.”
And once Elizabeth fastened the bow into her hair, the little girl was satisfied.
“You’re beautiful,” Elizabeth said.
“I know,” Fie answered.
The net that had sheathed her hadn’t appeared to touch her body. Her hands, her feet, the pale strip of her little belly that showed beneath her white top…all normal.
But it had eaten her face.
Huge, hollow black eyes stared calmly above the gray-white protrusions of her cheekbones. Tiny little teeth were set in a permanent grin above a pointy chin.
Her lids were so transparent her eyes were still visible when she closed them. Thin, flesh-colored lips clung with stubborn insistence.
Her face was an almost incomprehensible mess of gleaming bone, strips and patches and networks of red, blue, and gray muscles, nerves, blood vessels, and…
Hideousness.
Her hair was silky and fine and shiny with its side part and its pink hair bow. And despite her raw, skeletal face, innocence shined from her like a beacon.
“You know what, kid?” Rune said. “You really are a little beauty.”
“I know,” Fie said.
“Rune,” Eugene said. “When you have a minute.”
She nodded. “You coming, Elizabeth?”
“No. I need to speak with Eugene. Don’t keep her outside long. And watch her.”
They understood. They weren’t to allow her to call the dead.
As if they could stop her.
Then Elizabeth and Eugene hurried off, planning and plotting things they had no intention of sharing.
Likely, Rune figured, a way to make a new face for Stefanie.
Surprisingly few people stared.
None of them pointed.
That could have been because they were all Annex workers and had grown accustomed to seeing shocking things.
Or maybe it was because the man who held the child glared at them all with the sort of challenge not one of them was willing to accept.
“I saw Nikolai,” Fie said, suddenly.
Rune shivered as a sudden chill swept through her. “Nicolas?”
“Nikolai,” Fie insisted, almost angrily. “He is sad and bad.”
“And,” she went on, when no one said anything, “Brasque. He’s g
ood. He talked to me.”
“When?” Rune whispered, then cleared her throat and tried again. “When, Fie?”
“After I went away.”
“When you were hanging in the net?” Strad asked.
“When I was in the net. I went away.”
Rune rubbed her arms and glanced at Strad. He lifted his eyebrows, as lost as she was.
“Who is Nikolai? And Brasque?”
Fie met Rune’s stare. “He’s nice.”
“Do you know where you went?” Because suddenly, Rune had to know. “Where did you go?” She put a hand on Strad’s arm and pulled him to a standstill.
“With the dogs. There were good places and bad places. I was in the good place but bad things were coming. Brasque made me leave.”
Strad looked at Rune. “Just a dream.”
But Rune shook her head. No. It was more than that. She could feel it like some sort of…echo coming from Fie’s body. “It wasn’t a dream, Berserker.”
They took Fie outside, just past the sliding double doors. As soon as the air hit her skin, the tiny girl threw back her head and took a deep breath.
“Cold,” she said, her voice lit with pleasure.
“Does it hurt your face?” Rune asked.
Fie didn’t answer.
Where did you go, Fie? Where the fuck did you go?
Rune’s cell rang, and she walked a few steps away to answer it. “Kelic. What is it?”
“You asked me if all Others were getting sick. I didn’t have an answer. I do now.”
She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Fuck me.”
“Yes. The infection does not discriminate. All Others are fair game.” He hesitated. “Rune…”
“I’m already aware I may be infected, Kelic. If I find out that girl attacked me under your orders, the infection won’t have a chance to get to you. Not before I do.”
“I swear to you—”
“Save it,” she said and clicked off.
Fie was falling asleep in the berserker’s arms before she’d allow them to take her back to her room.
Elizabeth tucked her in, her brow knit with worry. “She’ll be fine,” she said to no one. And no one replied.
Rune leaned over the child to kiss her forehead. “See you soon, kid.”
Fie shot open her thinly covered eyes and grabbed Rune’s hair, wrapping it around her little fist. “They’re waiting for you,” she murmured. “To save them.”