by Joey W. Hill
Rand didn’t think about how Cai had bought Dovia time, mainly because he still wasn’t sure what to think about the amazing, terrible thing Cai had been able to do. What it meant, what the vampire thought about it, how it would impact…all of this.
Instead, he sat with Dovia for the next half hour while the vampires acted with surprising efficiency, ferrying down a cot, linens, and even a couple old magazines they’d dug up from somewhere. Though Rand wasn’t sure how much she’d enjoy Guns & Ammo and Survival Daily. They didn’t speak to her, and the looks they cast her way were far from kind, but they left her alone. It was the best she could hope for among their company.
Rand knew he needed to do what Cai had said, but every protective instinct in him raged against leaving her. The worst part was he couldn’t tell Dovia what he was doing. Or why.
Cai had become progressively quieter, not responding to Rand’s last couple of thoughts. The approaching sun added to Rand’s uneasiness and sense of urgency. Though Cai had asked for no aid, Rand knew in a few moments he would need his help even more than Dovia did. The vampires would be coming for her soon to take her downstairs, and Rand couldn’t risk them locking him in with her.
Rand nudged her face. Her gaze rose and held his. He gave her a long, long look, and then he moved away from her clutching fingers. His heart cracked at her stifled sound of panic, but with feigned indifference, he began to amble through the cabin, sniffing at this or that. When he was sure Hector had noticed him, he started to lift his leg.
“Hey, no, don’t do that. Fucking hell.”
He jumped just like a dog would at the snapped curse. However, like a wolf—and letting some of his true self through—he laid back his ears and growled menacingly, a rumble that vibrated through the boards of the cabin. Malvin laughed.
“He’ll rip your face off, Hector. Open the door and let him out. Hell, with that bond Cai talked about, he might go lay next to the bastard. He’ll keep him warm if he’s feeling cold, right?”
There was some ugly laughter about that, but when they looked toward Goddard for confirmation, the Trad shrugged. “Cai’s right. This place is filthy, but I don’t want it smelling like wolf piss and shit.”
Regardless, Rand felt the head vampire’s eyes on him, assessing, so he made damn sure that when the door was open he slunk warily along the edges of the cabin, taking his time about it, rather than charging straight for it.
“Though…”
Rand almost paused, as he would if someone had spoken to him, but thank all the gods, he caught himself. He kept moving toward the door without hesitation, the vampire’s words nothing to a wolf but nonsense, though his ear stayed swept toward him to gauge threat.
“If you are more sentient than your Master claims, wolf, or your human side has more care for him than you act like you do, I will tell you this. You leave him here, I will do so many unspeakable things to him, you won’t recognize him if you meet again. His soul itself will be in shreds.”
“Fuck, who cares, Goddard?” Brutus asked. “Cai’s the one with the ability to care for the girl.”
“If he has a servant, we don’t have to find blood for him,” Goddard said shortly. “And the wolf hunts for himself. A win-win.”
There was more to it than that. Even if he hadn’t received it loud and clear from Cai, Rand understood that Goddard was the broken one of this group. The others were probably mostly interested in their autonomy from Council vampires and adding to the Trad idea of a pure vampire race. They exercised brutality toward anyone as a matter of pecking order. But Goddard was addicted to the cruelty. He liked how the wolf seemed slave-bound to Cai and would enjoy the benefits that could provide.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Rand had cleared the door, and received a follow-up from Cai.
Go. Soon as you can get to the edge of the clearing. Go.
Rand ignored him. He found a place at the edge of the clearing, screened by foliage, but he didn’t leave. He waited. They were minutes from sunrise. Alert and tense, he stayed on the periphery of the camp, an agitated whine caught in his throat. It turned into a growl when his sharp ears and nose detected Dovia’s movements. As they took her down to the cellar, she was struggling and crying. She was terrified again, thought she was abandoned, wasn’t sure if Cai and Rand would bolt on her.
Would Goddard torment her in ways he felt wouldn’t endanger what she was carrying? Rand hated hearing and feeling her desolation. For a brief few precious seconds, he’d been an ally. It tore his heart out of his chest to hear her cry. Putting his nose down on his paws, he closed his eyes tight, and counted the minutes.
He was relieved to see Goddard and Hector leave the cabin, and go to the outbuildings. The vampires didn’t apparently prefer to share sleeping quarters. Goddard was carrying the bottle of wine, and it was half-empty. Hector had a canteen cup in hand, probably his share.
That left Malvin and Brutus guarding Dovia in the cellar. While Rand wished she could be completely left alone, Goddard was the one Rand had been most concerned would stay with her. Evil had a smell, and the Trad stunk of it. But maybe Goddard understood his own weaknesses, and that was why he left his other men in charge of her.
Things got quiet. The sun crested the horizon. Vampire safe zone. Somewhat. Rand was willing to bet the cellar of the main cabin connected to underground bunkers in the other outbuildings, so all the vampires could respond to a threat. Unless they were unconscious from the wine, they still had the advantage, because she was too fragile for Cai and Rand to risk a fight in close quarters. If the Trads thought they were at risk of losing their prize, they would kill her. Scorched earth policy.
Why are you still here?
For you.
Now that there was no risk of vampire interference, Rand left the bushes. He had no way of knowing if they were studying any underground surveillance, so he stayed in character, circling the cabins, sniffing, marking, but made his way steadily to where he knew they had left Cai. Based on how Cai had described his protective instincts, it wouldn’t be out of character for the wolf to seek out his Master.
He was starting to form a list of things he wished he could un-see, and Cai’s appearance made the top of the list. They had him practically mummified in chains. They’d forced one length into his mouth like a horse’s bit, tightening it enough it cut into the corners. They’d also stripped him naked, his clothes folded in a neat pile a few feet away.
All Trads horrible? Rand asked in wolf speak.
No. You won’t find any of them at a PTA meeting, but Goddard and his clan are the serious crazy end of the spectrum in the Trad world.
Cai didn’t open his eyes. He was coated with a sickly-smelling sweat, and Rand could feel his pain, already a dull roar, increasing to a full-fledged cacophony with the strength of the sun. He would have shade here, but as Goddard had said, at the sun’s height, it would narrow precipitously. They’d laid Cai up against the side of the shed like a log.
You need to fucking go, Cai insisted.
Stay short while. You said I’d stay close. Because of bond.
That part is actually kind of true. Though I can’t make any fucking sense of it. Dumbass dog loyalty. Cai’s eyes stayed closed. He was shaking harder than Dovia, but Rand didn’t want to point that out.
Dig hole. I can do that.
Cai shook his head, a sharp jerk. They’re likely still watching. Best you just seem distressed and take off. Best for both of us. This is going to get real ugly, real fast. Vampires Lyssa’s age can be above ground as long as they’re in a nice brick mansion, or a dirt coffin hidden in a van, but their strength is sapped by it. For those like me, made vampire, and two hundred years old, I’m going to be a fried egg for the next few hours. And extra crispy on the edges.
His brow creased, lines deepening on his face. There may be some screaming, a lullaby to put Goddard to sleep. As distractions go for you to get away, couldn’t have come up with any better. That Goddard. What an idiot genius.
<
br /> Rand moved his head so it rested on Cai’s chest. He knew the vampire was on fire, but that shaking was more than physical. It went down to Cai’s soul, and he knew the vampire needed the contact. Cai’s eyes briefly opened, rested on him.
Goofy dog. His mind voice was an intimate murmur, despite the pain stressing it. Didn’t like her drinking from you, you know. How stupid is that?
Can’t leave you. As his emotions swelled, the wolf’s mind took over even more of his speech patterns. Her. Dovia. Tearing guts out. Crying. Thinks abandoned.
She’ll forgive you in a New York minute if you come back here with some kickass cavalry. Your other choice is playing Nana during her pregnancy until Goddard has his hell spawn. Then he’ll let his cronies rape her to death to put her and all other Council vampires symbolically in their place. Your choice, but I’m leaning real strongly toward the cavalry.
Never take anything…serious.
Take it serious and realize how fucked up all of this is? How fucked up I am? Facing reality is pressing the red button and going up in a mushroom cloud.
Cai’s eyes met his. For a flash, Rand saw it, saw that maelstrom. Then it was locked behind a door again. But hey, you get back, manage to rescue us, I might consider couples’ therapy, honey. Long as the therapist has a nice tight ass and includes going down on me as part of the service.
Rand nipped him lightly and Cai strangled on a laugh, one filled with such agony it made Rand immediately chagrined. But it hadn’t been the bite. It was the impending dawn.
Go, damn you. His fevered gaze locked on Rand. Only you can save our lives and, if you fail, well, fuck, no guilt, you hear me? You did your best. Don’t make me haunt your ass. Go.
Rand felt as if he was being ripped apart by ropes tied to all his limbs, his heart, his soul, his mind. He had to act like a wolf. Had to act like a wolf. He blocked out Dovia’s crying, detectable to his sharp ears, the rasping of Cai’s breath, the shock waves of pain coming off the vampire. He made himself circle the camp once more, sniffing.
Even though the vampires couldn’t go out in the sun, their age made it possible for them to be up longer below ground, monitor things, get suspicious. The wine would hopefully take care of that, but nothing was certain. It was best to take the time to maintain the ruse that he wasn’t smart enough to be a real threat.
He passed close by the human females; silent, motionless women with virtually no spirit left to them, no interest in him. Cai had been right. One was too close to death’s door. He could smell it upon her.
Rand thought of Lady Lyssa and Jacob, and all the things he’d seen and felt when at Lord Greenwald’s home. Yes, Cai had been mistreated, because Greenwald thought he might be part of the same group that had taken his daughter, and Greenwald was obviously not thinking straight. And Voltaire…
Rand’s teeth showed briefly as he thought about the traitor. Dovia was the most important thing, but if they lived to see Voltaire brought to justice, that would be gravy on the bone.
But this horrible brutality…he could understand Cai’s lack of good feeling toward any vampires, but if a choice had to be made, Rand would gravitate toward the Council vampires. They at least seemed to have a recognizable code of behavior.
He circled and pawed Cai, whined. Cai made a noise as if warding him off, cursing him. After a few more moments of agitation, Rand lifted his head, scenting the air, seeking game. Then he headed into the trees as if he’d caught a trail. Once out of sight of the camp, he started to run, letting the hunter take over.
But not for food. His eyes went cold, teeth sharp and gleaming, ears laid back as he stretched out. He flew straight as an arrow and twice as fast.
Yet when the sun began to climb in the sky, he heard Cai’s first screams. Because there was no outrunning what Rand could hear in his head.
Chapter Fifteen
Rand exceeded the fastest speed he’d ever run, his wake flushing deer, rabbits and birds that normally would have caught his attention. Before they’d left Fane’s, Rand had called Gideon, told them where the Trads were with Dovia, and that they were going in. The Council’s warrior had indicated they would find a discreet approach that would put them near Fane, and use Fane as a communications relay. Fane had been amenable to that.
So Daegan wasn’t very far away, hopefully, with reinforcements, but he couldn’t come out in the daylight any more than the others. Rand hoped he had a good idea about extracting Dovia. Or maybe Cai did. Cai seemed to do his best thinking on the fly.
Rand skidded to a halt. Things had gone completely silent in his head. Over time, the screaming had become hoarse, then broken, then fallen to groans, but it had still been there, a terrible proof of life in Rand’s head.
No. Cai wasn’t dead. If he was dead, Rand would be dead. With a stab of feeling, Rand realized what had happened.
Cai had blocked his mind, used up precious energy so Rand wouldn’t have to hear him, suffer from that sound. If the vampire would be consistently an asshole, it would be so much easier to know how to feel about him.
Rand resumed his course at the same breakneck pace, but his mind was whirling just as fast. He thought about the magic he’d seen Cai do. Creation magic. While shifters weren’t like Fae or other magic users, they had a rudimentary awareness of it, and there was no stronger energy.
Everyone who knew about vampires knew that the biggest challenge to the strength of their race was the fertility problem. Their population was decreasing, and there’d never been many of them. Born vampires were stronger than made ones, for the most part. When they had children, the children were of sturdier stuff than made ones. If it was learned a vampire could help female vampires conceive…
Cai had serious reservations about using that magic, about the right and wrong applications for it. Rand had caught a glimpse of something, about a woman he’d helped conceive, but that had been cloaked in forbidding shadows, as if Cai hadn’t wanted to think further about it.
He hadn’t wanted vampires to know he could do it for anything but plants. But he’d used it to protect Dovia.
Hell, he was so confusing. Maybe the key was in that nuclear comment he’d made. Facing reality is pressing the red button and going up in a mushroom cloud. Rand had felt dark things from the vampire. Yes, dark as in sad and tragic, brutal and frightening, shadows of his past. But also…darkness. Like a tunnel deep in the earth that led nowhere but to an absence of light. All the treasures were there, but hidden, never to be seen, because it was better that way.
He was getting close to his destination. Exercising an abundance of caution, he hadn’t used howling to signal ahead. He redoubled his pace, though his lungs were already burning, muscles aching. He could tell down to the boot size every place he’d been kicked.
Fane was working in the back fields with Stalker and Chad. All three males came to full alert as Rand leaped the furrows of turned earth and slid to a stop in front of them, almost bowling over Fane. He couldn’t breathe, had to drop his head, take long, gasping breaths. But he shifted at the same time, since he wouldn’t be able to tell Fane what he needed in wolf form. It was time he contributed his own ideas to this half-baked, desperate and doomed-to-fail rescue plan.
“Help,” he said. “I need help. And a phone.”
London broiling. Londontown, falling down. My fair lady. Hot, hot, hot… Song on the radio. Cai watched the one human woman die. Laying there, her eyes on him, and suddenly, she wasn’t there. Life gone. The other woman called her name, weakly, desperately, the first show of life she’d had. Now she’d be alone. Amazing, how anything could still matter when someone had been through so much, and what mattered was usually the connection to someone else.
Lodell, his mother, his father. Rand. Those were his connections in life, over two hundred years. What a pathetically short list. Oh, there’d been a kid…that kid, the one who thought Cai was a shut-in but would play near Cai’s cabin. That had been back when Cai had tried having a house in the Tennessee mountai
ns. Seeing what it was like to stay in one place. Had his place been like Rand’s home, decades later, with the oh-so-perfect Dylef?
That was a crappy thought, but he was being tortured. He was allowed to be petty. He focused on the kid again. Just a waif, with a mop of greasy hair and brown eyes like a raccoon’s. Kid was poor as dirt, with nine brothers and sisters. Parents didn’t even notice him being gone. Cai found him things to eat he didn’t normally get, stealing them from the general store at night. Kid liked candy. What kid didn’t?
When Cai abandoned the idea of being a homeowner, he left the kid the house. That had been, what? Fifty years ago? Probably married with a bunch of kids and had left that place long ago. Time took everything away. No bonds lasted.
Servants, though…that was a bond that was supposed to last into eternity. Nice wishful thinking. Unless you were bonded to someone who drove you crazy, and then that was like a sentence to Purgatory. But Rand…
Everything hurt, was on fire, screaming, blinding pain. He was in the shade, but it didn’t matter. It was like being in an oven, slowly being roasted. His skin blistering and peeling, his throat closing, making him feel like he was suffocating. He knew he wasn’t, but he supposed it was the vampire form of waterboarding. The brain was on five-alarm fire alert, screaming for water, air, all engines to report to the scene…nothing, though. No one would come. Not for him. Maybe for Dovia. She deserved it. Nice kid. Didn’t deserve this.
Rand. Cai didn’t have any particular thoughts associated with that one word. It merely brought him comfort to say it, feel it. Rand had put his head on his chest before he went. Maybe that was just a wolf thing. They did a lot of communicating by rubbing faces, bodies, bumping one another. It could have been a so long, asshole, it’s been fun.