A Shade of Vampire 63: A Jungle of Rogues

by Bella Forrest

  I gave her a sideways glance, curious to see what she was focused on. I held my breath when my eyes found hers. She was watching me, quietly, with a firm and unreadable expression. I would’ve given anything to have Elonora’s sentry abilities at this point, so I could at least figure out what she was feeling. I would’ve also given more than a penny for her thoughts, but I didn’t think she was in a sharing mood.

  After all, she was shackled and under our control. That had to sting.

  “You know, if you want to ask me out on a date, just say so,” I said, putting on a sly and confident smirk. I figured I might as well joke my way out of this hot mess and maybe get her to open up a little bit. One could only hope.

  “What’s a date?” she asked.

  A few feet away from us, the group was talking about viral strains and what the Faulties remembered about the Draenir. I kept an ear on them, waiting to hear Raphael’s name mentioned, for me to shift my focus back to their conversation. Everything else didn’t really matter to me, not at this point, anyway. I only wanted us to find Raphael, so he could get us closer to Ta’Zan and our people.

  “It’s what two people who like each other do. They go on dates,” I replied. “Drinks, dinner, a romantic walk on the beach. Though I’m more of a clubbing kind of guy. Dancing until the wee hours of the morning and whatnot.”

  She nodded once. “Two people who like each other,” she murmured. “What makes you think that applies to you and me?”

  I feigned shock, placing a hand on my chest. “Oh, my! You mean to tell me you don’t like me? That’s just breaking my heart.”

  “And I’m supposed to care… why?” she said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Good grief, girl, lighten up.” I chuckled, though deep down it did hurt a little—damn my ego. “I was kidding.”

  “Which is what I find troubling and fascinating at the same time. How can you be so jovial given the trouble you’re in?” she replied.

  I sighed. “It’s my coping mechanism. Panic and sorrow won’t help anyone, so I might as well do everything in my power to avoid those feelings.”

  Douma seemed impressed. She stared at the fire for a while, her brows furrowing whenever a particular thought seemed to linger in her mind for more than a second. Her expression had suddenly turned from annoyingly top secret to open book. Her facial muscles relaxed. Something had changed in her demeanor, but I couldn’t say what, exactly.

  “Why do you serve Ta’Zan with such devotion?” I asked her, turning the conversation toward a more serious topic. “Are you really okay with people dying just so you can declare yourselves superior?”

  She smirked. “You’re naïve to think that that’s how it’s going to happen.”

  “Then enlighten me, please.”

  “Why? You’re doing everything you can to stop it, anyway. What’s the point?”

  “It’ll make me understand you a little better,” I said.

  She looked at me, somewhat confused. “Why would you want to understand me?”

  I blinked several times, trying to find the right words. Deep down, I had a feeling she wasn’t bad at all. She’d shown signs of cooperation before, and, frankly, I didn’t think she’d tried that hard with her earlier attempt to escape. I was trying to figure out what she was really like, how she truly felt about this new world, and what her endgame was where we were concerned.

  “Because you’re interesting,” I replied, choosing the path of honesty. “And I’d like to get to know you better.”

  That seemed to hit a soft spot, because the shadow of a smile flickered across her face—so quick and faint, it was almost unnoticeable. Had I not paid such attention to her expression, I would’ve surely missed it.

  A minute passed in awkward silence, and she kept watching me. I didn’t yield either. I held her gaze. There was definitely some type of dominance that needed to be asserted here, and it had to come from me. Genetically speaking, she was perfect—hence the species name. I was a hybrid, and not a very impressive one at that. Yet I was the one who had control over the situation. She had the shackles on.

  “We won’t immediately use violence to conquer other worlds.” Douma finally spoke. “We will offer them a peaceful alternative, one of servitude and obedience. They will all be sterilized, with the exception of several specially selected pairs, whom Father will use for his genetic work. They will all die out, eventually, but they will get to live.”

  “What kind of life will that be, if their homes and their lands are taken by your kind? If they’re deprived of the right to have children and raise families? It’s an idiotic approach, sorry,” I replied, working hard to contain my outrage.

  She didn’t like my response. “It’s either that or instant annihilation. We won’t ask nicely twice,” she said. “If one planet goes down in flames, word will spread quickly. By the time we get to the next, they’ll know to think carefully before they reject our domination. Either way, we’ll win. We’d prefer the less violent approach, if you ask me. Regardless of what you saw earlier, we’re not that crazy about wars and bloodshed. But if we’re given no other choice… well, you know.”

  “It’s still insane.” I chuckled. “Do you not understand the ridiculousness of what you and your people are trying to do? We’ve been living in this universe for eons. We’ve built our worlds and our civilizations from scratch. I mean, sure, we’re not as powerful as you, but we’re capable of love and kindness, progress and curiosity. Who the hell do you think you are to stomp all over us, huh? Who gave you the keys to the universe?”

  Douma took a deep breath. She seemed confused.

  “We are superior. Ta’Zan made us so. We were designed to take over the universe. To go on and create our own worlds and civilizations, better and more advanced than anything else before us,” she said.

  “But why do you have to destroy ours in order to build yours?” I retorted. “There’s room in this universe for everybody.”

  The more I challenged her, the more difficult it got for her to respond. She’d clearly been indoctrinated by Ta’Zan, but she was definitely beginning to see things from my perspective. I was determined to plant a healthy seed of doubt in her head. She needed to question everything. If I was to get her to turn on Ta’Zan and help us, I had to get her to draw certain conclusions on her own.

  “Seriously, tell me,” I demanded. “Who told you there was no room for your world unless you destroyed ours? Ta’Zan?”

  Douma nodded. “It’s what we were taught. That there is no point in other, inferior creatures, if we exist. It would be a waste of resources. It makes sense to me.”

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Douma, look around you. What do you see?”

  She did as I asked, then shifted her focus back to me. “Is that a trick question?”

  “Not at all. It’s a serious one. I genuinely want to know what it is you see.”

  “Well, the jungle. Animals everywhere, hidden in the darkness. Faulties and your people, sitting around the fire,” she replied.

  “No one’s fighting, right?”

  She shook her head.

  “They’re all tolerant of each other, sharing stories and food. There’s room for everyone on this particular, tiny patch of land,” I said. “Farther out in the wild, some animals graze, others chew the bark off the trees, some gather nuts and fruits, and some hunt other animals. There’s a natural system in place. A food chain. A cruel but logical hierarchy. All animals eat. Some animals eat other animals. But they’re all living on the same planet. Sharing the same woods. The same beaches and mountains. The same skies and waters. They’re not killing each other off so they can reign supreme. What would you and your Perfects reign supreme over, if everyone else dies? What is the point of superiority, exactly? To make you feel better? I don’t get it.”

  Douma sighed deeply. At last, she was beginning to wonder the same thing. It was written all over her face. “I don’t either,” she whispered. “But I love Father. He created me. He ta
ught me everything I know. There’s no life without him.”

  “I think I can disagree with that last one. Check out Rasmus, Leah, Samael, and Kallisto. Leave Amane out, since she left on her own. But the other four, they thought the same thing, at first. Ta’Zan kicked them out, and life sort of ended for them. Yet, here they are, Douma, making friends and getting through the day, without shriveling up and dying without purpose,” I said. “There is life without Ta’Zan. Most importantly, how sure are you that what Ta’Zan taught you is, in any way, correct? What if he lied?”

  “Father would never lie to us,” Douma said, slightly angered.

  “Oh, Douma. It’s so obvious you were born a few days ago,” I muttered, allowing a bitter smile to cross my face. “It’s in our nature to lie. We do it because we’re afraid or because we want something we wouldn’t get with honesty. We lie to keep people in the dark, to get our way—that only happens when what we intend to do is evil and wrong. We would never lie in order to do a good thing. Or the right thing. And the thing with lies, Douma, is that they have short legs. They don’t last long.”

  “Father wouldn’t lie! Stop trying to get in my head!”

  “Okay. Fair enough,” I conceded. “Let’s say Ta’Zan didn’t lie to you about anything. Not willingly, anyway. But I can tell you, for a fact, that he’s taught you some very wrong things,” I added, smirking. “Think about it. And ask yourself this one important question: what entitles you to the entire universe? You’re just a blip in the cosmos. A fleeting moment. There were billions of lives before me, and there will be billions more after I give my last breath. The same goes for you, Douma. Sure, you’re practically impossible to kill, but you still bleed. You eat. You drink. You sleep. You feel things. Just like us. A multitude of blips in an endless universe.”

  Douma had nothing to say to this. Her gaze softened as she looked at me, though, and my heart fluttered with boyish delight. The human side of me was in flames, pining to get closer to her. The wolf side was even worse, howling at the moon, inebriated by her scent and the sound of blood rushing through her veins. She was a marvelous creation. Props to Ta’Zan for making her, I guess.

  “If I tell you something, would you promise not to laugh in my face? If I were you, I would double over,” Douma whispered.

  I gave her a warm smile. “I promise.”

  “I’ve asked Father about all this. I’ve asked why it’s necessary to enslave and annihilate other people for us to establish superiority. He said… because we’re part of the new world order. Because nature has been getting it wrong, and he can do much better. We are what happens when you get to the best parts. He also said that others wouldn’t understand us. They wouldn’t accept our superiority. They would think of and maybe even find a way to destroy us.”

  “Okay, well, we’re not perfect, Douma,” I replied softly. “We make mistakes. We sometimes make horrible mistakes. But we learn from them. We get smarter. We do better. It’s all a part of life. It’s what makes us who we are. You call yourselves Perfects, but you’re not. Perfection is an abstract term, an unattainable condition, and that’s where Ta’Zan will ultimately fail. You cannot achieve perfection. You can take what you have and consider it your version of ‘perfect.’ Not mine. Not anyone else’s. Just yours. And you can do it without killing others or destroying their lives, Douma. We’ve been around for long enough to see what death and destruction bring, as opposed to… well, love and tolerance.”

  Douma took in every word, her Prussian-blue eyes glimmering with fascination. She’d never heard anyone say such things, it seemed. Which made me feel kind of proud to break such new ground.

  “As for the new world order, forgive me, Douma, but it’s a hilarious statement to make, coming from a guy who was made in a petri dish, just like you,” I added. “Not to diminish Ta’Zan’s abilities or intellect in any way, but still. He has no right to do any of this. No right whatsoever. The Perfects are free to do whatever they wish. You could build wonderful lives here. You could create your own civilization, and no one would try to stop you. Heck, Douma, we’d be happy to support you and help you. We’d love to be your friends. We could learn from one another. Not kill each other.”

  She sighed again, this time with more pathos. Her mind was suffering. She was deeply conflicted. Ta’Zan had conditioned her into thinking the exact opposite of everything I’d said to her, and she was now coming to gradually realize that what she’d been taught was… well, flat out wrong. Whether Ta’Zan did it knowingly and solely for the purpose of manipulating her and her siblings remained to be seen. Since we knew so little about the Draenir at this point, it was difficult to ascertain what influence they’d had on him, prior to his creation of the Faulties and the Perfects.

  “This doesn’t change anything, you know,” Douma said, breaking my train of thought.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You ask good questions, and I’ll think about everything you said. But, the first chance I get, I will drag your asses back to Ta’Zan. I always obey my orders, Dmitri. And Father wants you.”

  The statement sent shivers down my spine, but I smiled anyway.

  “Give it a couple more days, beautiful,” I said. “Stick with us and you’ll come out a different person. Hell, you might even ask me out on a date in the end. Provided we make it out of this alive.”

  “I’d rather chew rocks,” Douma muttered.

  I chuckled. “Never say never, Douma.”

  She shook her head again. This time, however, there was a tinge of amusement brightening her face. She chose to look away and focus on the small campfire instead. I paid attention to the main conversation between the Faulties and my crew.

  But, deep down, I held on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, I’d managed to change something in her. Maybe she was starting to see things the right way, from our perspective. It would be naïve of me to expect her to have a sudden change of heart all at once, though.

  Nevertheless, doubt had a way of creeping into one’s soul, especially when one was surrounded by so many challenging truths. Who knew? Maybe Douma was going to be swayed by us, in the end.

  Only time would tell.

  Except, time’s not really on our side.

  Rose

  Concern kept gnawing at my stomach whenever I had a minute or two to think about Mom, Dad, and the others in their group. It got even worse when my worries expanded to those who had been on the star ships during the Perfect attack. The names and faces of most had already been seared into my memory.

  Some, my brother and I had trained personally in The Shade and on Calliope. Others, we’d only met briefly, but I would always be thankful and aware of their extraordinary contributions to GASP and our missions. Many of them had a special place in my heart—Jovi, Anjani, Jax, Hansa, Varga, and Heath in particular. Hell, they were family. Some by blood, others simply by being there for us and our children when we needed help.

  Each day that went by meant twenty-four more hours that my parents and our closest friends and family spent with Ta’Zan and the Perfects. My only comfort was that Ta’Zan needed them alive. However, they were deprived of their freedom. They were miserable and probably worried about us, too. They must’ve learned who had died and who had survived during the fleet attack. I figured it would’ve been easier for Ta’Zan, from a logistical point of view, to keep all his prisoners in one place. Or, at least I hoped for it.

  “We need to get more Faulties involved in this,” I said, breaking a temporary silence.

  The fire was slowly dying out, and we’d given ourselves another twenty minutes of rest before moving again. Hunter had just come down to join us. There was no aerial activity above or anywhere near our location, which allowed us the extra time to recharge our batteries.

  “The rogues would be easier to convince,” Samael replied. “You made us join you, after all.”

  “I think they’ll be more inclined to listen to you than us.” I sighed. “We’re the outsiders. The enemy, i
n a way. Most, like we already know, are looking for ways to get back to Ta’Zan. Your arguments and convictions would be far more useful than our pleas.”

  “To be honest, we were lucky with you,” Kailani added. “Our first encounter could’ve gone either way. After all, we’ve fought Faulties before. We’ve had to kill some of them. I doubt others would just stop and chill with us over barbecue.”

  Samael smirked, nodding slowly. “Fair enough. I say let’s focus on getting Raphael on our side first. He’s more important than any of our brethren. He’s got inside knowledge that we, the abandoned ones, do not. He knows where Ta’Zan is, and, most importantly, he may have a bone or two to pick with him.”

  “With the right argument, we might be able to convince him to work with us,” Amane said. “I know him. He’s one of the first to come out from the Perfect batch. He always had questions, just like me. Even Douma over here had her doubts in the beginning but chose to follow the herd.”

  Douma narrowed her eyes at Amane. “Pardon me for being loyal.”

  “Well, look at what loyalty got us,” Samael said. “Not only did we get booted out, but we got newbies like yourself mocking, teasing, and bullying us for no intelligent reason whatsoever, other than your false sense of superiority.”

  Douma went silent, her gaze settling on the fading embers of the small campfire.

  “Anyway. The thing about Raphael is that all the Faulties, both rogue and those still serving Ta’Zan, will be more inclined to join us if they see him on board,” Amane explained. “I didn’t know he got kicked out, but if there’s one thing I do know about the Faulties, it’s that they can be swayed in a different direction with the right influence. Many were impressed by Raphael and followed him around like curious little kids.”

  Kallisto chuckled softly. “Yeah. I had quite a crush on him when he first plopped out of the womb. Buck-naked, gorgeous, and confused… My heart was thundering. I see your point, Amane. Raphael can also be very convincing when he wants something. So, he’s got the looks and the persuasion skills down. He’d make a good addition to this band of misfits.”