by Tes Hilaire
It’s as I’m on my second circuit, nearing the natural split where the spotty forest meets up against the rocky hillsides beyond, that I note the absence of something very important.
Heartbeats. There are no heartbeats here other than my own.
A break in the line? No way. This is too good to be true. I can’t help but hope, though, and break into a sprint. Heading for the hills, as my dad would say.
No one follows.
Keeping my senses open, I work my way ever upward, using the natural gorges between the rocky outcroppings and cliffs as my footpath. I’ve gone a good mile before the absurdity of the situation really hits home.
Too easy. Too easy.
And just like that, my bubble bursts. A double rhythm rises over my pounding feet. A figure leaps down from an outcropping of rocks ahead.
Damn. Knew it was too easy.
And then who it is registers: The queen herself. I stumble to a stop, pulling a blank expression onto my face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was so close to the border.”
“I’m sure.” She smiles, sickly sweet.
Survival instinct says, “I was just out for a …run. I guess I went further than I thou—”
The queen waves her hand, effectively snapping my mouth closed. “Spare us your sniveling excuses. We both know you saw the opportunity to flee and took it.”
As if I’m going to admit that. I stay silent, working to keep my thoughts blank too.
She scoffs. “You really thought my guards would be so lax as to let you slip through?”
No, I didn’t. Which means I was allowed to escape. Probably so that I’d be far enough away from Raoul so he wouldn’t sense when his mother killed me. “Raoul is never going to forgive you if you kill me.”
She shakes her head, crimson eyes sparkling. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“No?”
“No. I’m going to let you go.”
Okay. I must be back in some parallel universe where zombies are cute and crazy wicked queens turn into Glenda the Good Witch. Three clicks of my ruby slippers and I’ll be home. Yeah right.
The queen takes a step forward. I automatically take a step back, hit up against a pine bough behind me. She smiles, then licks her finger, saliva pooling on the sharp nail. Before it drips, she reaches out and drags it across my cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough that I can feel the sting of her poison through my abraded skin.
My breath rasps in and out of my lungs. I can’t help it. “Thought you weren’t going to kill me.”
She leans in close, her breath like an arctic breeze across my ear. “Run, Eva. As far and as fast as possible. If you’re quick, maybe I won’t change my mind.”
“Why are you doing this?”
She straightens, dropping her hand. “Because to kill you would be to lose my son. There is not much I won’t do, but I won’t do that. Nor will I ever see you wed him.”
That made two of us. Funny this is what would bring the queen and I together.
I don’t stay to puzzle out this weird bonding experience. I skirt around her, and then bolt, heading as fast as I can into the next gorge.
I don’t slow down until I’m panting, the fire of exhaustion burning through my veins. Must have traveled a good ten or fifteen miles already. And so far the queen seems to have not changed her mind.
That had been just plain weird. I am not going to look a gift horse in the mouth though, so I run on, my frantic pace evening out into a ground-eating jog. It must be past midnight. I have half a night to find someplace to ride out the day. And then I’m going to have many more long nights of searching after that. I need to get back to my house, check and see if John found the notebook or not, and then book it back to base. I’m sure that’s where John would have headed after I’d disappeared and I’m determined to follow suit. Home. When did that icy-grey cement bunker become home?
When John and the other’s accepted you as pack.
Which is just plain crazy. Taurus slim aside, I’m still not sure of that. I’m more like the weapon that you keep well oiled.
A sound cuts through my thoughts. A tinkle of stone on stone. Pebbles running down the steep cliff faces I’d just skirted by.
Crap. Raoul must be following me.
Guess it was too much to hope his mother might distract him for a bit, give me a head start.
I lock my legs, skidding to a stop and spin around. Better to face him now.
“Come on out, Raoul. I know you’re following me. We might as well get the yelling match over with.”
I’m not sure if Raoul is following me to bring me back or because he thinks he’s going to employ that whole we’ll-roam-the-countryside-and-hunt-together strategy, but whatever his thoughts are, he’s about to have another one coming. I’m not going back. And I’m not partnering with him. Gratefulness and teenage crushes aside, he’s not the guy for me.
It’s not Raoul who leaps down from the rocks above though, but another vampire. A master vamp judging by the impact of his gaze. What the heck? And then another one leaps down after him. I suck in a breath, scanning around me. Sure enough, another vampire steps out from a crevice between the rocks, and then another glides forward from down the path.
The queen’s guard. How could I have been so stupid? Just because she promised not to kill me, didn’t mean that she wouldn’t send someone else to do it. And the reason for letting me go? Well, she needs me far enough away from the mansion that Raoul won’t sense my need.
I take a step back, my gaze darting around for a weapon, any weapon. “I don’t suppose we can talk about this.”
The closest vampire smiles and then shakes his head.
Too bad. I am all about postponing the inevitable. Of course, if I am going to die, I think I’d like to go out with a bang. Too bad I don’t have my gun. Now that vamps sword…
A plan begins to emerge. It’s a stupid plan, but I figure it might be good enough to get me that sword and take one or two of them down with me. I can’t hope to do much more than that, but I figure it’s almost as good as mentally flipping off the queen.
I lunge to the right, diving across the red stone. The ground flies up to meet me with a muffled groan on my part. My hand closes around a broken limb that’s cracked and fallen during some storm from the nearby cliff. I follow through into a roll, my feet hitting the ground with jarring purchase as I scramble back to standing, already swinging.
And what do you know, vamp one is already there, his sword flying down at me in a deadly arc. I decide right then that this is the guy who’s going with me.
I scream, half war cry, half no-effing-way, and twist my makeshift club into an upward arc. The sword grazes off the end, deflecting into the meaty muscle of my upper arm. I gasp at the slicing pain but rejoice that it’s not my neck. The blade lodges into my bone. Gotta love vampire physiology. Any other creature and the sharp metal would have sliced right through.
I jerk back, the lodged sword pulling the surprised vampire off balance. It’s pure desperation that fuels the strength behind my next strike. The limb smacks into the vampire’s temple with a resounding thwack. His eyes glaze over, his grip falling from his sword.
Wow. Did I do that?
Don’t think about it, Eva girl. Keep moving.
I’m not the only one in shock at my accomplishment. The other vampires, four now, stand there staring.
Too good to be true.
I fling my branch at the nearest, and without waiting to see if it hits its mark, spin around to scramble back toward the path. Awkward with a sword sticking out of my arm, but I want to get some distance. I manage to close my hand over the crosspiece of the hilt, and then, with another scream, I yank the blade free.
And now I have a weapon.
Oh, and a useless arm that’s bleeding like a sieve. I need to bind it. Later. After I get away.
I’m fast. Just ate. If I can outrun them…
That’s right, Eva girl. You can do this.
No weapon. A broken arm and one that’s half cut through. I fight with the only things I have left: my legs and my fangs. I even manage to draw blood.
The vampire I’ve bitten swears, then clocks me in the head. Lights explode behind my eyes. Seconds pass where I don’t know if I’m still face down on the ground or looking up at the stars. I blink.
Stars then.
I’m pinned. A quick test of my limbs tells me there’s no way I’m going to uproot the four vamps holding me down. Which sucks. I’m not really looking forward to another long drawn out torture session.
I glare at the vampire sitting on my left foot. “Don’t suppose you’re willing to make this quick.”
“Actually, that is what our orders are.”
I twist my head to see the vampire who’s spoken. Not one of the ones pinning me down, but the first one I’d knocked upside the head and stolen the sword from. I sense he’d much rather cut me to pieces, slowly and painfully for that infraction, but he is the queen’s man and will do as ordered.
Goosebumps rise on my skin as he pulls out a vial from a pocket in his cloak and works out the cork. Then he’s pulling something from a satchel dangling from his waist.
Syringe. Needle. A big effing needle.
He inserts it into the vial, sucking the liquid into the syringe, then takes a step toward me. Poison.
A memory of the burning fire that tore through my body after I’d been poisoned with the queen’s venom crosses my mind. Instinct kicks in and I begin to struggle in earnest. Which, unfortunately, does nothing more than earn a round of chuckles from the vampires holding me down.
Good to see my imminent death is amusing to someone.
The vampire with the needle steps over me, one foot placed on either side of my waist as he seems to study where the best place to poke me might be.
I gasp in a breath, trying to squish myself into the rock beneath me. “Do you really think this is a good idea?”
“Oh yes. I do indeed.” He smiles, flicking the syringe and pumping out a drop of liquid like they do at the hospital. As if a bubble is really going to matter when he’s pumping my veins full of poison.
“You know that killing me is going to start a war.”
“How so?” He reaches down, pokes at the side of my throat, frowns, moves to my sternum, measuring off the space with his fingers until he’s dead center above my heart.
“Raoul won’t let this stand. You kill me and he’s going to go after his mother. After he kills you, of course.”
A split second; that’s how long I see the uncertainty in his eyes, and then he’s reaching down, the syringe pointed at my breast.
I look up into the night sky, trying to center myself. This is happening. Nothing I can do about it but accept. As if my acceptance is a big squeegee for the fear coating my senses, the world around me comes into focus with crystal clarity.
I can smell the sharp scent of a hardy Joshua tree that is too stubborn to know that it’s beyond its natural boundaries. Feel the slight shift of the rocks beneath me as they slide against one another, infinitely slow. I can make out Orion and all the other stars that have guided and inspired the human race throughout time. I can sense the life all around me. Grubs, small mammals, the steady thud of five indifferent vamp hearts, and something else. One more life besides my own. Another heart, this one thrusting a torrent of fury through a beast’s limbs.
And the beast comes to save the monster from the fiends.
The needle pricks my skin, sharp pain as it slides in. My heart stutters at the intrusion.
“All right then,” I gasp, dragging my gaze back to the vampire above me. He hasn’t pushed down the plunger yet, but it’s only moments. “Just remember I told you so when you die for killing me.”
His lip curls up. “Your prince is too chicken to take me on and risk his mother’s wrath.”
“Maybe. But he’s not.” I nod my head toward the cliffs above us.
41.
A low rumble rolls across the gorge. The vampire’s head snaps up and around. Too late. A blur of fur. A heavy crash. The vampire is lifted off my chest and swept to the ground a few yards away, blood spraying like a jet from his ripped-out throat.
The other vampires spring into action. All of a sudden I’m free. The only thing left to hold me down is the syringe sticking vulgarly out of my breast. Not much of a deterrent, that.
I reach for it, only to realize my right arm hasn’t mended enough to respond. Where there’s a will... I force my left arm up, ignoring the searing pain across the closing gash in my upper arm. With a muttered oath, I yank the syringe free and clutch it in my hand. As a weapon, it’ll do.
And it looks like we need one too.
John is playing tag more than he’s attacking. Trying to divert the other vamps’ attention so I can recover. Even in were form he is no match for four healthy master vamps, and barely competition for the injured fifth who has stumbled up, his hand holding in the torn windpipe and tendons of its throat. Guess it was too much to hope that he’d bleed out.
I struggle to my feet. My arm is healed enough that it’s no longer weeping blood, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t lost enough to feel woozy. I have to take a second, half crouched over, breathing heavily. I need to help, but I’m not going to be much help if I can’t even stand straight.
I flinch as one of the vampires takes a swing; the tip of his sword grazing John’s flank as he leaps out of the way.
The vampire screams, swinging, and missing, as John leaps out of the way again. I blink, watching the blood that runs in rivulet’s down the vampire’s dark pants. A quick scan and I see that this vampire isn’t the only one who’s gotten a taste of John’s fangs. The dart and retreat attacks that I’d thought were purely diversionary in nature are making a real dent in the vampires’ hides. It’s like were fangs were made to rip through vampire flesh.
Well, duh, Eva. Mortal enemies?
Sweet.
Even so, five against one is hardly fair. Time to help even the odds.
“Stop!” I yell, hoping that at least one of the guards will turn on a tasty morsel of bait such as myself and leave John alone. I’m ultra-surprised when it works. Three of the five vampires turn. Leaving John facing only two, one of which seems stopped dead in his tracks. I can feel the vamp’s frustration as he tries, and fails, to move.
WTF? Must be the one I’d bitten. Just a drop of blood, and like my pet zombies, he’s hopelessly caught under my will.. I am not sure if I’m wigged out by this or happier than sin. No one should have this much control. Should they?
Gift horses, Eva girl.
“Kill them.” I point to the three vampires advancing on me. My vamp twists around, like a marionette on a string, his actions jerky and uncoordinated, but he lifts his sword and lunges for his closest brother. Whooyah!
My joy is short lived. My floundering vampire is worse than a fledgling with a sword and his brothers have no mercy. Three seconds later they have carved him up: head, heart, and limbs. There is no recovering from that.
Crap. Does that count as my kill?
So now it’s back to three to one. I risk a glance at John. Hoping that maybe, somehow, he can help me. He’s making progress—the vampire before him drips in blood and gore—but he’s not going to be free in the next few seconds. Which is, unfortunately, about all the time I have.
I scoot back, my feet sliding over rock and dirt as I try to make my way around the various obstacles without tripping. “Don’t suppose you guys have changed your mind about talk
ing.”
Silence.
“You know, this whole gang up on Eva thing is getting old. Where’s your pride? All three step forward.
“Two to one?”
Surprisingly, one of the three stops, the point of his sword digging into a cacti as he leans on it as if bored. A second later, the second one stops also. Oh wow, gentlemen assassins?
I look at the vampire who is still advancing. Take in his lethal sword, the abraded temple, the healing red scar tissue of his neck.
Nope, not gentlemen. Gentlemen would kill me quickly, not leave me to their vengeful brother. Still, I’ll take what I can get in terms of breaks.
“Hey there.” I scramble around a large boulder, trying to stay firmly on the other side. Scar-throat merely leaps on top of it. And then jumps down, sword first.
I dive to the side, roll over my still mending arm, and come up onto my knees with a bloody lip from having almost bit through it.
It could have ended then, should have, but the crazy idiot stopped, testing the edge of his sword as he waited for me to scramble to my feet.
I take advantage of the reprieve and start edging my way along the cliff face behind me.
He smiles, his arm flashing out. I manage to duck the sword, but have no time to avoid the well-placed kick. Only it never connects. John leaps in front of me, the vampire’s boot smashing into his ribs with a sickening crunch. The force of the blow lifts John off the ground, sending him flying… into me.
Together we crash into the gorge wall. My spine screams, my head, well, I think it just may have split open. The world spins, my ears ring. And I can’t get up. John is one heavy mutt. I look back at the vampire. He arches his brow, his sword swishing back and forth. Practicing the final strike or showing off.
Frantically, I push at John. He whimpers, but doesn’t move. “Stupid mutt. What were you thinking?” I squirm, trying to wiggle out from beneath him, my fist pushing on his chest. Wait. My fist. My hand is still fisted around the syringe. Holy crap. I still have the syringe. I can’t hope to kill them all, but maybe I can take this one out, give John a chance to wake up and slink away.