Blood Unleashed (Blood Stone)

by Tracy Cooper-Posey

  Nial’s expression was blank and neutral, the one he wore when his thoughts were racing. Sebastian forced himself to look away from him, for staring would tell Kurshid too much.

  They had been receiving reports about the fires across L.A. all week. Tenement buildings, old commercial sublets, warehouses and residential homes had been gutted by blazes. Witnesses had reported the sound of repeated gunfire before the blazes had broken out, but no bodies were found at any of the scenes.

  The fires were all at locations that Rick had pinpointed as belonging to the League.

  They had heard about the first of the fires on television and Winter had drawn their attention to the area, pointing with the remote at the screen: “Isn’t there a commercial building on that street that Cyneric thought was a League address?”

  It had sent Sebastian scrambling for the list he had transferred to his computer. He pulled it up and Nial read it over his shoulder. “That one,” he said. “Kent Street.”

  Winter, who had followed them into the office, bit her lip. “If we didn’t do it, then are the Libertatus making a move?”

  “They don’t have this list,” Nial pointed out. “We do.”

  “It could be coincidence,” Sebastian pointed out.

  “And Rick remembers everything. Let’s wait and see if this is the start of something or just coincidence,” Nial said. “But just in case, send the list out to our friends. They can keep an eye open, across the city.”

  The next fire had broken out the very next day, and in broad daylight. The warehouse in Van Nuys had gone up in flames inside twenty minutes. Sebastian received a text message as the building was still burning, from one of their trusted contacts. The text had included the address. The address was on the list.

  Nial had crossed his arms and said nothing.

  When the third address on the list had burned to cinders, Nial had sworn softly. “Get Rick here. Now. I don’t care how inconvenient he finds it.”

  But Sebastian’s calls, text messages and emails had all gone unanswered.

  The fourth address, burned on day four, wasn’t on their list. Nial had considered it for a minute. “Rick has been adding to his list on his own time. Keep trying to reach him, Bastian. I’ll have his ass for this.”

  Sebastian nodded. “You know it’s probably not Rick on his own?”

  “I know.” Nial’s frown deepened.

  “You did say Ilaria’s influence wasn’t done yet,” Sebastian pointed out.

  Nial’s scowl deepened.

  That had been two days ago. There had been two more burnings since then. Someone had reached out to Kurshid, asking her to intervene. And now she sat in their living room, demanding an explanation.

  “It seems unlikely, Madam,” Nial said carefully, “for someone like you to have friends that are members of the League.”

  Kurshid’s mouth turned down. “It is most unlikely,” she agreed. “It was the Pro Libertatus who contacted me, via intermediaries. They are concerned, Nathanial. They know it is your people doing this and they are afraid of what you are stirring up.”

  Nial considered that. “This is an unofficial overture, then?”

  “They will not contact you directly,” Kurshid said. “You understand why they will not?”

  Sebastian didn’t know. But Nial drew in a breath and let it out. “They don’t want to be associated with us in any way. They’re worried about how Heru will react.”

  “You’re risking open war, Nathanial,” Kurshid said. “A war in this city cannot be hidden from humans. Not for long.” She reached for the martini. “Your people would not survive long, either.”

  “I know,” Nial said.

  She put the glass back down without drinking from it. “Then you are not responsible for this mess.” Her mouth turned down in disapproval. “You have so little control over your own people?”

  “It is…” Nial began, pushing his fingers through his hair.

  Complicated, Sebastian added silently for him.

  “…a long story,” Nial finished.

  “I came a long way to hear this story,” she assured him. “Speak.”

  * * * * *

  Marcus jogged up the steps from the beach to his deck, feeling a pleasant ache in his calves. It had been too long since he’d done any running. More than a week had slipped by. It had been an extraordinary time, but he needed to focus back on mundane, ordinary activities and keep himself grounded.

  Rick was standing at the open doorway, looking very tall in black trousers and a black polar neck sweater. He wasn’t watching Marcus. His gaze was out somewhere on the horizon. Or Marcus thought it was, until he got closer. He stopped in front of him, and saw that Rick’s stare was inwards.

  “Meditating?” he asked.

  “My…a friend of mine. She has arrived in Los Angeles.”

  “You have friends?” Marcus asked.

  Rick’s gaze refocused on him and he rolled his eyes.

  “Where’s she from?” Marcus asked. “Britain?”

  “She lives in Europe.”

  “And you know she’s in town because…she texted you?”

  “I just know,” Rick said flatly.

  “In your mind,” Marcus clarified. He moved past Rick and into the kitchen. He needed water like a dog in the desert.

  “I suppose, yes.”

  “You can mind read?” Marcus asked. “Wait, stupid question. You’re a bio-computer. You probably predicted it.”

  Rick followed him over to the counter. “I didn’t predict this, although in hindsight, I should have. If I had spent any time considering the consequences of what we have been doing this last week, I might have known she would be drawn here.”

  Marcus gulped down a glass of water. “Wanna rephrase that for the merely mortal?”

  Rick spread his hands on the counter. “Kurshid is an Ancient One, but she is not as withdrawn as the rest. She can still function in the real world when she wants to and occasionally she will step in and involve herself in vampire affairs if she feels they are…”

  “Coming off the rails?” Marcus suggested.

  “Yes,” Rick agreed flatly. “She has a uniquely long range view of both human and vampire matters,” he added. “Someone contacted her and called for her assistance.”

  “Nial?” Marcus suggested. “You’ve been avoiding his calls.”

  Rick looked surprised. “How did you—?”

  “I read your text messages. You really should put a PIN on your phone.”

  “I will, now,” Rick replied dryly. “It wasn’t Nial. He would try to resolve the problem himself before asking help of anyone. That’s what the calls were.”

  “The League?” Marcus asked.

  “Kurshid wouldn’t deal with them. They’re the white trash of the vampire world and Kurshid is…”

  Royalty, Marcus thought to himself. There was a subtle note of admiration in Rick’s voice that told him this Kurshid held the type of status in his mind that most people held for royalty.

  “…a lady,” Rick finished.

  Marcus drank the rest of his water. “That just leaves the Libertatus.”

  “They would reach out to her, if they thought they could do it without entanglements.”

  “You’re leaving me behind again, Ricky.”

  Rick scowled. He didn’t like that version of his name, so Marcus used it a lot, when he wanted to tease. “Kurshid is nominally neutral in vampire affairs, but she likes Nial and I’m working for him.”

  Marcus shook his head. “I’m still missing something.”

  “I was her personal assistant – I suppose I still am. I have been for a very long time. The Libertatus would only contact her if they could do it through a cut-off, because they aren’t sure enough about her neutrality to contact her openly.”

  Marcus considered everything that was implied by that. “They’re afraid. The Libertatus.”

  “Yes.” Rick smoothed his hands over the counter. “I must go to her. She will
be expecting me.”

  “What is she going to do to you?” Marcus asked.

  “I imagine there will be shouting involved. Kurshid will be at Nial’s house by now.” His mouth turned down. “Sebastian will have much to say. He has never trusted me. He will interpret this as a sign that I have betrayed them.”

  Marcus snorted. “An idiot can figure out that’s not what this was about.”

  “Yes, but Sebastian will use it to hit back.” Rick shrugged. “It’s a minor matter, really. Sebastian distrusts anyone who doesn’t respond to emotions. He’s a fiery Irishman and passion is his language.”

  Marcus put the glass down. “Give me fifteen minutes to get ready.”

  “You’re not—”

  “Of course I’m going with you. Are you fucking insane?” Marcus railed at him.

  Rick stared at him. “Very well,” he said finally.

  As Marcus turned to head to the bedroom, he saw Rick smile.

  He took a fast shower and dressed as rapidly as possible. This time, he put on trousers and a fresh shirt. If Kurshid was the royalty that Rick was implying, then jeans and a tee-shirt really didn’t cut it, especially when you were about to get your ass kicked.

  Rick had been busy, too. Marcus’ insulated picnic box sat on the kitchen counter. Inside was a four liter wine bottle, filled with pyrrhus. Tea towels were stuffed down around the bottle, keeping it upright. While pyrrhus wasn’t as volatile as nitroglycerin, a spill became a problem, because it ate through just about everything.

  “You’re handing it over?” Marcus asked, pushing his cellphone into his pocket.

  “It’s time,” Rick said.

  They had spoken about this, in the dark, late at night when Marcus was too wired to sleep. He’d never intended to hand it over to the CIA. He had developed it on his own time, as a project to keep himself occupied. Once he had begun to realize the ramifications of the pyrrhus, he had known there was no one else he could ethically give it to. It needed to be destroyed, never to be made again, or else given to the entire world all at once. Either option was out of his reach as a private citizen.

  But the vampires could use it. It could counter Heru’s possession of the Blood Stone, neutralizing him, if it was used properly as leverage.

  Marcus understood that Rick was taking it to Nial now as a peace offering. An apology.

  “Let’s go do this, then,” Marcus said.

  Rick zipped up the box and picked it up.

  * * * * *

  Winter felt a tap on her shoulder and looked around. Dominic stood just behind her, well out of the way of the flow of people in and out of the office.

  When she looked, he held out a sheet of paper to her. She took it and read it. It wasn’t the first time he had spoken to her this way.

  i want you to heel me. so i can hear again. then i will know what everyone else does.

  Winter looked up at him. “Oh, Dominic,” she said softly, appalled. It hadn’t occurred to her that he felt like he was missing out. Between reading lips and sign language, he seemed to get along okay.

  He took back the sheet and wrote quickly, resting it on the back of the book he was holding. Then he gave it back to her.

  i know something is hapening. i want to help.

  Winter glanced around the office, at the controlled chaos that was rolling through this room and out into the lounge, where she could just see Kurshid, sitting in the center of the storm, with Nial on the kitchen chair next to her.

  Dominic tapped her shoulder and handed her the sheet again.

  now. please?

  Even Dominic had picked up on the building tension in the house. She looked into his eyes. He was staring at her steadily, his dark brown eyes filled with patience.

  “Alright,” she said, picking up his hand. “But somewhere less noisy than this.” She pulled him through to the passage way, then into the kitchen, and back out into the formal dining room that they almost never used. The big oak chairs sat in a regimented row down both sides of the table. The room was empty.

  Winter pulled two chairs away from the table and put them together. She sat on one and indicated that Dominic should sit on the other, facing her.

  He sat and looked at her expectantly. Excitement was shining in his eyes.

  Winter picked up his hand again. “I can only look,” she told him, hoping he would understand. “I may not be able to fix anything.”

  She inserted her awareness into his body, making her presence small like Iona had taught her. She found the hearing canals and traced them to the ear drum and saw with a start of unhappiness that the ear drums had been almost torn away. There was very little of them left. She could repair injuries, but she could not build organs out of nothing.

  But she did not want to withdraw so quickly, with such bad news, so she made herself smaller and smaller, until his cells were orbs hanging silently around her like Christmas decorations. It was becoming much easier to do.

  She shrank down until the walls of the cells were open latticework and slid inside. Ahead, she could see the double helix. Excitement touched her. This was alien ground, yet the helix called to her. She understood it, like the voice of an old friend. She let herself float over the length of it, reading its print, absorbing the facts they told her – Hispanic origins. South America. She spotted the recessive for blue eyes. Dominic had a blue-eyed mother or father.

  More facts, rippling down the chain. Then, there! Yes! Hearing. Sound absorption. It was not named either of those things, but Winter recognized it. She quickly rifled through her own DNA, finding the matching pattern. Hers was slightly different. The difference was the key.

  She nudged Dominic’s genes, rearranging them.

  “Winter!” The call came from outside herself. Outside Dominic.

  She hurried, swapping the genes around. Reshaping them.

  “Winter!”

  Now the patterns were the same. Satisfied, she lifted herself out of the helix, out of the cell. She pushed the cell toward its neighbor and watched the electrolytes bond them. They would swap information, then turn and bond with other cells, replicating the change across cell after cell.

  Satisfied, Winter sat up in her chair, pulling her awareness back to just her own body.

  Sebastian was shaking her shoulder. “Winter,” he said, his voice not quite urgent.

  Winter looked up at him. “What is it?”

  “Kurshid says they’re coming.”

  “Both of them?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then she was right. Rick felt she was here and is coming to see her.”

  “She says maybe ten minutes.”

  Dominic drew in a sharp breath and she turned to look at him. He was staring at his hands. She touched his knee to get his attention. “I couldn’t fix your hearing,” she told him. “The damage is too severe. But I made a tiny change. It might help.”

  Dominic was staring at her. Tears glittered in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Winter said, her heart hurting.

  “I can hear you,” Dominic whispered. He brought his hand up to his head, but instead of touching his ears, he pressed his fingers against his temple. “In my head. I can hear you.” A single tear spilled down his cheek.

  “What the fuck, Winter?” Sebastian breathed. “What did you do?”

  “I…” She swallowed, staring at Dominic. “I changed his genes.”

  “You messed with his DNA?” Sebastian asked incredulously.

  “Just the healing part,” she said. “I made it like mine. I thought…he might be able to heal himself.”

  “He’s like you, now?”

  Winter bit her lip. She reached forward and picked up Dominic’s hand again. “Can you see inside me?” she asked.

  Dominic’s finger curled around her own. He looked at her. “I can see inside your head.” He lifted up her hand. “I do not need to touch you to see.” He let her hand drop. “When you speak, I can see what you are saying, in your head.”

 
; “Is healing the only genes you touched?” Sebastian asked.

  “I thought so. But you were talking to me. I looked away for a tiny fraction of a second….”

  “What was next to them?” Sebastian pressed.

  Dominic was frowning, watching them both. “She woke up my brain,” he said. “Just a small bit, in the parietal lobe.”

  “What does the parietal lobe control?” Sebastian asked.

  “Senses,” Dominic and Winter said together.

  Sebastian rested his other hand on Dominic’s shoulder. “We don’t have time to sort this out. Don’t say anything to the others yet. There’s too much going on as it is. Dominic, congratulations, man. I’m glad for you. But now I need your help.”

  “Tracking down Heru,” Dominic said, standing up.

  “I didn’t say that,” Sebastian said.

  “You did in your head.”

  Sebastian blew out his breath. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun. C’mon, wonder boy. Time to work.”

  Dominic smiled at Winter. “Thank you,” he said.

  “Don’t thank me yet,” she said darkly, thinking of all the possible complications that might yet happen.

  Dominic shook his head. “I don’t care,” he told her. “I will face whatever comes.” Even his speech had lost its odd inflections. He patted her shoulder as he passed.

  * * * * *

  Rick parked outside the tall fence and glanced around. “Everyone is here,” he remarked. “That’s Garrett’s Rover. And Roman’s car.” He shrugged. “To be expected,” he said and got out.

  Marcus put the strap of the lunchbox over his shoulder and caught up with him. “Just for the record,” he said casually. “I’d do it all over again, given the chance.”

  “The raids?” Rick said, opening the gate.

  “Those, too.”

  Rick glanced at him.

  They walked through and the gate clanged shut behind them. It was an ominous sound.

  Rick’s gaze returned to the ground in front of his feet. “Remember what I said about not getting involved with humans?”

  “Yeah.”

  Three more steps. “I didn’t know I was lying.”