Raven's Blood

by Cassandra Lawson

Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Are you ready for this?” Connor asked as he dusted wolf fur off of his pants.

  “More than ready,” Ian replied with a sadistic twinkle in his eyes. That was one of the reasons he’d decided to bring Ian to question the turned vampires. Ian could be one scary bastard with his fallen angel appearance. Originally, Connor had been against including Ian because of his unpredictable nature, but Simon had talked him into it. Hopefully, Connor wouldn’t regret his decision later.

  Ian’s dark savagery was a perfect match for Simon’s angelic looks. Ian wore head to toe black, while Simon wore faded blue jeans and a white t-shirt. Shelby was also there in case Connor needed help dealing with Ian. She wore stretch pants and a short t-shirt so she wouldn’t have change before heading to training that morning.

  Connor wore his usual fighting gear, cargo pants and a t-shirt. He’d skipped the jacket and Kevlar vest since he was pretty sure they didn’t have to worry about being shot by their unwilling guests. They’d both been given blood, but they were still being kept in separate cells to keep them from tearing each other apart.

  The intelligence in their eyes made no sense and confirmed Connor’s suspicions that there was something different about these vampires. He walked up to one of the cells and opened the door. The occupant of that cell was a male who had probably been fourteen or fifteen when he’d died. Turned vampires this young always made Connor uncomfortable. As much as they tried to eradicate the turned vampires, it was still a very difficult process because the vaccine was so scarce. While they couldn’t survive on the dead blood of other turned vampires, they frequently killed each other when they couldn’t find humans to feed from. From what Connor understood, the three days of death before they rose was enough to destroy their ability to think and reason. It also destroyed their memories. Some weren’t even able to speak after the turn while others worked hard at it. From what he’d been told, these two were far too eloquent.

  The younger turned vampire had pasty white skin, probably from lack of blood and was thin to the point of being gaunt. That was unusual in any vampire. For some unknown reason, they put on a lot of bulk unless they were starved for extended periods of time. The vamp’s brown hair was uneven and dirty. His brown eyes were far from crazed.

  After opening the cell door, Connor motioned to the chair in the middle of the room. “Have a seat,” he invited pleasantly. “We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  The turned vampire shoved his hands into his back pockets and spit on the floor. “Fuck you, blood brat,” he replied a little too coherently.

  Ian moved before Connor could even think to give an order. He caught the vamp by his throat and tossed him roughly into the chair. The chair splintered, and the turned vampire collapsed onto the floor. Ian quickly grabbed one of the chair legs and crouched down to press the makeshift stake to the vampire’s heart. “Understand this, you little bastard,” Ian growled, “I was brought here to be your death if you don’t cooperate. I’m hoping you don’t cooperate.”

  “Do it!” the turned vampire half-taunted, half-begged. “End the pain. I didn’t want this.” His hand reached up and grabbed the stake, pulling it closer to his chest. Ian stared down at the vampire’s throat for a moment before cursing and moving back quickly, making Connor wonder why he was suddenly so rattled.

  “Is that why you attacked us?” Connor asked.

  “Shut up!” the vampire in the cage shouted. “Don’t tell them anything. We are close to having it all. You can’t trust the blood brats.”

  “Having what?” the vampire on the floor asked desperately. “I’m tired of being a slave. We are nothing. Let the blood brats kill us.”

  “What’s your name?” Connor asked the one on the ground.

  “Mitchell,” he answered after a long pause.

  “Why are you so coherent?” Shelby asked. Her voice held the same shock they all felt at the turn of events. They hadn’t expected this. They’d come in to torture information out of the turned vampires. They’d expected them to beg for death, but not for this reason.

  “It’s the blood and the virus,” Mitchell explained. “They give us special blood, and they injected us with a new virus. Some don’t survive it. The women,” he paused, and his eyes closed as he struggled with memories, “like my mother and sister, don’t usually survive. They try with some but kill most of them. In the end, they steal all our lives. At first, it still beats.” He pointed to his heart. “Eventually, it stops beating, and we forget our human lives. I don’t want to stop being me.”

  “Fucking idiot!” shouted the vampire in the cell. “We’re going to rule this land. We have to follow orders. We have no names, just orders!”

  “That’s what happens to us,” Mitchell told them, waving a hand at the cell. “I’ve held on longer than most, but soon I won’t remember who I am. All I’ll remember is who I’m supposed to kill. Please,” he begged as he met Ian’s eyes. “Kill me now. I’m already dead, but I don’t want to lose all the memories.”

  Ian placed a tentative hand on Mitchell’s chest and then nodded. “Weak, but still beating,” he confirmed.

  “Who injected you?” Connor asked.

  Mitchell opened his mouth to answer, but then he closed it. His brows drew together in thought as he tried to find the information in his mind. “I don’t know,” he admitted, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s all disappearing. I’m Mitchell and my brother is . . .” He paused once again to try to remember. His struggle was obvious. “My brother is James. No, my brother was James. He’s gone now. My sister was Nina. We lived on the ranch. They came to get us and no one helped us.”

  Connor felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. This boy may have been from one of the ranches by Las Trampas. Connor hadn’t thought about helping the humans in the ranches. He’d warned them about the turned vampires in the area, but he should have set up extra guards.

  Ian helped Mitchell to his feet and then patted him on the back in a strange gesture of comfort.

  “I think we should take him to see Dr. Moon. He might be able to figure out what’s happening with the virus and who’s behind it. Maybe he can find a way to help Mitchell keep his memories,” Connor told them. “With any luck he can find a way to keep him alive and make his heart stronger.”

  Connor waited for the arguments. They didn’t keep turned vampires, they executed them quickly. Turned vampires were already dead and lost their identity when they contracted the Moon virus. At least, that had been the case before. In the turned vampires, their cardiovascular system completely merged with their digestive system. A similar thing happened with the born vampires. The difference was turned vampires were dead. They had no heart beat. If they weren’t talking, they didn’t need to breathe. Connor looked down at Mitchell, and the boy was breathing heavily.

  “Listen to me, Mitchell,” Connor said firmly. “I promise if we can’t find a way to stop this, we’ll kill you. I’m going to make arrangements for you to see our Moon virus expert. In the meantime, I’m going to get you some bagged blood.”

  “Just let me die,” Mitchell pleaded. “I don’t want to get worse.”

  “You have the chance to save lives,” Shelby told him.

  Mitchell let out a weary sigh and nodded. He walked back into his own cell and sat on the floor. After securing him, Connor sent a message to find out when they could have things set up for Mitchell.

  Then a thought occurred to him. “Where did you hear the term blood brat?” It was something Connor had wondered since that day at Las Trampas. The term was old, and it had been used by humans. It seemed strange that it was suddenly being used by turned vampires.

  Mitchell answered without hesitation. “He always tells us we’ll have to kill the blood brats.”

  “Who tells you this?” Connor asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mitchell admitted dejectedly. “I think his name starts with a C or maybe a G. I can’t remember.”

  “C
an you write?” Ian asked.

  The boy nodded.

  “I’ll get you something to write with so you can keep notes,” Connor assured him.

  “I’ve got a better idea,” Shelby said, removing a notebook from her bag. It was actually a small device that took notes and could print them out later. “Put your thumb over this and speak. If you want to listen to your notes, put your thumb over the purple square. I just cleared my notes, so you won’t have to listen to any of my ramblings. Nothing can be erased without a password, so you don’t have to worry about accidentally deleting something.”

  Mitchell nodded and took the device without another word.

  It was obvious after five minutes of questioning, they were wasting their time with the other vampire. He spit and threatened, muttering about his orders to kill the blood brats. He no longer remembered anything about his life. Ian took him outside of the room and drove a stake through his heart.