Blood Bond (PULSE, Book 5)

by Kailin Gow

  The vampires fled, and Octavius scanned the area for the vanished villagers. They were hiding in their homes or behind bushes or rocks, evidently too afraid of this powerful vampire to come out. “It's all right!” Octavius called. “You're safe.” But these words, coming as they did from the mouth of a vampire, hardly seemed convincing.

  Kalina decided she had better intervene. She approached one of the women huddled in a tent a few paces off. The woman's eyes widened with surprise as Kalina passed easily over the threshold without being invited.

  “Don't be afraid...” But the woman evidently did not understand English.

  Kalina pointed to herself. “Human?” She tried.

  The woman still looked confused.

  She tried again. “Vampire!” Kalina said, before shaking head to indicate no. “Not vampire.” She showed the woman her wrist and pressed her pulse to the woman's ear.

  The woman looked relieved. She seized Kalina's hand and kissed it.

  “Kalina,” she pointed to herself. She pointed to her brother. “Justin,” she said.

  “Kalina,” the woman sounded out the name, nodding. “Justin.”

  Kalina beckoned to the woman to come out into the open. The woman shook her head furiously, pointing at Octavius and shuddering. “Vampire.”

  “But they're good vampires!” Kalina protested, before realizing that the woman did not understand. She smiled gently at the woman before exiting the house and going to Octavius and Jaegar, taking their hands, trying to show the woman that she was not afraid of them.

  Octavius turned to the woman, who cowered at the threshold, and bent down gently, saying something to her in her native tongue.

  “What are you saying?” Justin broke in.

  “I'm telling her that I mean no harm, that I'm not going to hurt her, that I am a friend of the human Kalina.”

  “Tell them I'm a doctor!” said Justin. “I can bandage the wounds.”

  He crossed into the house and went over to a small child, which was bleeding profusely from the shoulder. Tearing his shirt, Justin began to fashion a bandage, wrapping the cloth tightly around the afflicted area. The woman beamed and seemed to calm down a little. She said something to Octavius, then tentatively exited her house. When Octavius made no attempt to bite or kill her, she relaxed somewhat and even smiled.

  She said something to the group, and although Kalina could not understand the words, her meaning was clear. Thank you, she was saying, as she fell to Octavius’ feet, kissing his hand.

  And then Kalina heard her own name mentioned.

  “What's that?” She turned to Octavius.

  Octavius frowned. “She says she knows you,” he said. “That she's been waiting for you.”

  “Me?”

  And in the Mongolian woman's wide, terrified eyes, Kalina saw something like recognition. What did this woman want – and how did they know her?

  Chapter 5

  As the sun rosed purple and orange above the parched Mongolian steppes, Kalina, Jaegar, Justin, and Octavius set themselves to work. There was a great deal to be done – several of the children had been injured and half-drunk; women and men alike had fang-bite wounds that had become infected. Justin did what he could to ease the pain and stop the bleeding, and Octavius and Jaegar each gave a morsel of their blood to help speed up the process of healing. But it was long work. There were about fifty villagers – of which fifteen or so were children – and each needed medical attention. Octavius translated for the others as Kalina tried to make herself understood in mime, pointing to herself and to various parts of the body, trying to ascertain where different injuries were, where to heal.

  “I think it's better if you go a bit further off,” said Kalina to the vampires. “You're making them nervous.”

  “We mean no harm,” said Jaegar, but he knew that she was right. The villagers had agreed, warily, to come out of their homes, but the presence of Jaegar and Octavius seemed to be filling them with wariness. The two vampires agreed, and set off for the outskirts of the village, where they sat to wait for Justin and Kalina to finish. Kalina felt her muscles ache. She had not slept in days, she realized – everything had happened so quickly. She had fought again Mal, flown to Mongolia, fought off a few vampires, and now here she was, tending the wounds of villagers in a remote village few outsiders had ever seen. Everything seemed strange and overwhelming to her; her body cried out in exhaustion for release. She wanted, more than anything, to lie down, to sleep. But she could not. There was no time for that.

  As her eyelids fluttered shut while she was tending to one little boy, she forced herself awake. No time for sleepiness now, she told herself! No time for rest. She had the vague sense in her bones that it would be a very, very long time indeed before she was able to rest. But this was the work she had chosen, Kalina thought – or at the very least, the work that life had chosen for her. Staying up all night with vampires, traveling the world, tending to villagers in far-off lands – this was her life now. Yale suddenly seemed very far away. Had she really ever once dreamed of nothing more than an Ivy League diploma and a Varsity sweatshirt? Those visions seemed so paltry compared to the life-or-death struggles she now participated in every day.

  Kalina caught sight of a small girl huddled in a corner. She had not come forth like the others to receive medical attention, but rather curled up in a ball, holding her knees to her chest, shaking softly. Kalina could see that her wounds were not great – she had only scraped her knees when running from one of the vampires – but she went over nonetheless. The girl could not have been more than twelve years old, Kalina thought – yet she was so willowy and slender she looked younger still. But her eyes still maintained a proud, soft beauty: no matter how much this girl had suffered, the strength and loveliness of her gaze shone through.

  “What's your name?” Kalina asked gently, although she did not expect much understanding. She pointed to herself again. “Kalina,” she said, with a small smile. She pointed to the girl.

  The girl looked her up and down. At last she pointed to herself. “Nola,” she said.

  “Pretty name.” Kalina smiled at the girl, repeating the name back to her. “Nola!”

  The girl gave a shy grin back. “Nola!”

  She came closer to Kalina. But as she approached, Kalina felt a strange prickling in her blood. It was a tiny feeling, nearly imperceptible, certainly not as strong as the last time – but it was there, all the same. The sense that Life's Blood was in the air. Kalina felt a strange sense of recognition as this girl approached. Kalina looked closely at the girl. Was she a Carrier, too? The girl squirmed under Kalina's intent gaze.

  Kalina went over to Jaegar and Octavius, who were standing at the edge of the village, scanning the horizon for the vampires they had sent forth for the hunt.

  “Something weird just happened,” she said quietly, not wanting to alarm the girl. “That girl over there, Nola. When she came close...I felt something.”

  “Like a Life's Blood something?” asked Jaegar.

  “I don't know – maybe.” Kalina furrowed her brow. “Whatever it was, it was weird.”

  The vampires returned to the village center, approaching the girl. She whimpered under their gaze and retreated back into her house.

  “Don't be afraid!” Kalina knelt down next to the girl, speaking as gently as she could. But the smell was stronger now. Was it coming from the girl? Kalina couldn't tell. But she could sense the presence of Life's Blood in the air. The scent was stronger now, more immediate. If it wasn't coming from the girl, where was it coming from?

  At that moment, one of the two vampires whom Octavius had sent away to find food return, an enormous wild boar slung over his shoulders. He didn't look particularly happy about his newfound role as Octavius’ lackey, but he bowed deeply as he laid down the boar at Octavius’ feet. “Master...” he said, through gritted teeth.

  “Very good.” A look of grim satisfaction appeared on Octavius’ face. “I take it you have decided
to join us, then.”

  “I'm not stupid,” said the vampire. “I know on which side my bread is buttered.”

  Jaegar turned to Justin. “Looks like we might not need to turn you after all,” he said. “We've got a few on our side already if we need to fight Molotov.”

  Justin turned pale. “Let's hope it stays that way,” he said.

  Kalina felt the familiar prickling once again. But it was strong now – so strong that it felt as if her very blood was boiling in her veins. She could feel each molecule, each blood cell, coursing through her, millions and millions of carriers of this strange and yet wonderful sensation. It was a feeling of power – a great calling, in which her blood cried out and connected with the blood of whatever it was that lurked in the wilderness. “Something's up,” she said quietly.

  But before the others could react, a group of vampires appeared coming out of the mist. They were enormous creatures – each one at least six and a half feet tall – with broad shoulders and muscular, taut bodies. They could have been handsome, Kalina thought, if they did not all look so hard – their figures appeared to all be chiseled out of stone. Their skins were tanned and rough, and Kalina could see a predatory look in their eyes.

  At the center of the group was one much taller and stronger-looking than the rest. He had been turned in his early thirties, but his eyes betrayed his true age. His hair was shaggy and black; his eyes, like Kalina's, she noted, betraying his origin on the steppes of Central Asia. He wore no shirt, and his muscles rippled from beneath the fur pelt he wore slung around his shoulders. Above the tangles of matted black hair, he wore a helmet flanked on either side by enormous ram's horns, like a Viking helmet. This must be Molotov, Kalina knew – she could feel it in her blood alongside her fear. He looked ancient. Powerful. The furs he wore and the horns upon his head both betrayed his power – he was a savage, animalistic creature, so ancient that he had become more like beast than man. But in his eyes Kalina could see his keen intelligence, his swift strategizing. He would be tough to beat.

  “Molotov,” Octavius bowed deeply, carefully. Kalina had never seen him express any submission before – normally he simply charged and commanded. But Molotov was a powerful vampire, she knew, and he required diplomacy, not brute strength.

  “Octavius.” Molotov bowed right back. “I thought I smelled you in the air.”

  “And I you.”

  “It has been some time, my friend.”

  “Yes, a long time.”

  The air crackled with tension.

  “I have come to speak to you on behalf of these villagers,” said Octavius. “Enslaving like this, keeping them sick and starving – it's no good for humans, and it's no good for vampires, either. You'll drink starving blood if anything at all, and these people will die out within a generation if they are not free to catch their own food, to keep their own livestock. And when they die, your men will not have any source of blood.”

  Molotov betrayed no expression on his face, but he turned his chin in the direction of Justin – bandaging one young boy – and nodded blankly.

  “I see,” he said. Then his gaze fixed on Kalina. She shuddered as he fixed his hard, cold eyes upon her. He could see right through her, she felt. He knew what she was.

  “I see,” he said again, taking a step towards Kalina.

  Immediately, Octavius and Jaegar were at Kalina's side, standing between her and Molotov. She took a giant step back from Molotov, standing directly behind Octavius. Molotov raised an eyebrow, looking ever so faintly irritated.

  “No need for that,” he said. Unlike the emotional rogue vampires, who made their bloodlust really clear, Molotov hid his emotions well. Kalina had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, what he wanted from her, and that frightened her more than a set of bared fangs ever could.

  “Are you going to let that girl get away?” One of Molotov's men stepped forth. “But Master! She's a Life's Blood!”

  The rest of the men chimed in, their teeth bared and ready for action. Kalina shivered. They were vastly outnumbered – even counting the one vampire they had added to their numbers, they were still three vampires and two humans against ten powerful ancient ones.

  Molotov's men stepped forth.

  “I warn you, Molotov!” Octavius stepped forth, too, his eyes and expression grave. “I am not looking for a conflict. This girl is under my protection.”

  Molotov said nothing.

  “Hey, Molotov!” A voice came ringing out from the trees. “If it's Life's Blood you seek, I imagine you want it strong, straight from the source. Not from a mere girl that might turn you. From a woman.”

  Kalina whirled around. It was Max – her mother – her lithe, strong frame poised like a panther on the tree-branch, ready to strike.

  “I am the original bearer of Life's Blood,” Max's voice boomed from the tree. “Let the girl be – follow me, my friend! Let's have a bit of a game. Leave the girl alone – you have no interest in her.”

  So that's where the smell had come from! Sniffing the air wildly, the vampires turned to the tree, but Max had vanished into the forest. The vampires rushed to give chase, ignoring Kalina as they followed the stronger scent of Max's blood.

  Molotov remained, looking down his nose at Kalina and the vampires. “You are in my territory, Octavius – you who are the last of the Consortium. Do not test my patience. All those in my territory belong to me – not your protection nor your pleading will spare the girl if I decide I want her. I take what I want when I want it, friend. Count yourself lucky, girl, that I don't want you now. But if I do decide you take my fancy – if you are fool enough to remain in my kingdom – do not stop me.”

  And with that, he turned on his heel and vanished with the others.

  Chapter 6

  Kalina stared after the men, her heart pounding. What was her mother doing here? How had Max found them? She felt that same strange, confused sensation that she felt every time she encountered her mother. Looking at that woman – a woman who looked barely older than Kalina herself – she saw a reflection of what she might become: hardened by war and battle, her body ravaged by violence and drugs, her taut muscles like rocks upon her gaunt frame. Max frightened her. She seemed to have little pity for vampires and less still for those susceptible to vampire attraction; she had been willing to stake Stuart if it meant getting them both out there alive. She was, Kalina knew, what she had to be: hard, stone-faced, merciless. Yet those elements in Max – the manifestations of that darkness which they both shared – terrified Kalina. She could see the potential for that hatred, that strength borne out of anger, in herself, and that frightened her.

  Who was this strange woman: her mother? This woman who shared a bloodline with Kalina and not much else, who had left Kalina to be raised by another woman, another family. Kalina was nervous for Max as she thought of Molotov's fearsome men scouring the woods for her blood, and yet her feared was quelled by the thought that Max had survived much in her many years alive – survived much longer than a normal Carrier.

  An old woman tapped Kalina on the shoulder with a spindly finger. She alone of the group seemed to speak any English, although her language was halting. “You...” she said. “You Life's Blood.” She nodded, as if to hint that Molotov's words had but confirmed her expectations. “We wait for you.”

  Yes, Kalina thought – that was what the ghost-girl had said. This village had been waiting for her.

  “Why?Old StylNĀ Kalina turned to the woman. Why her – of all the Carriers? All the sources of blood? What was so special about her – how was she supposed to save them, anyhow? She was confident enough in her skills at vanquishing normal vampires, but she knew Molotov's power dwarfed her own – dwarfed even Octavius’. What could she do but run.

  “Our village,” said the woman, gathering her thoughts together slowly. “The guardians of the stone. The good doctor found the medicine. He found the blood.”

  “The doctor? You mean – the one who invented Life's Blood?�
�

  The woman nodded rapidly. “Life's Blood, yes. Blood. He found the antidote. We keep it for him. Sacred.” She tugged on Kalina's arm. “Quickly. We have not time. Soon Molotov will drink – and then he will be too strong...”

  Octavius stepped forth. “I won't let that happen,” he said. “Not to a Carrier – that was my oath. And not to your mother....as a friend, I cannot let that happen.”

  “But he's so strong!” Kalina's voice trembled. “You can't go – it's too dangerous.”

  “All the more reason not to put your mother at risk. Even she – for all the power in her veins – cannot do this alone.”

  “I'm coming with you!”

  “You stay!” Octavius’ voice grew stern. “The last thing we want is both Carriers in one place. It's too dangerous. You need to stay as far away from your mother as possible.” He turned to Jaegar, his voice cracking with pain. “Take care of her. I'll return to the village when I can.”

  If he could, Kalina thought bitterly. “But what if you don't...”

  “No time to think about that now.”

  “Octavius!” She cried. And then Kalina didn't care who was watching, didn't care who was around. The man she loved was going into a battle – a battle he might not be able to win. A battle he could never win. She rushed into his arms, tears stinging her eyelids. “Wait!” And with that, she pressed her mouth to his, feeling the force of his kiss washing over her. She knew Jaegar was watching – she knew it hurt him – but at that moment she couldn't bring herself to care. This could be the last time she saw Octavius; this could be the last time she closed her eyes and felt so safe, so strong, so happy in his arms. And she couldn't let him leave without letting him know how much she loved him – one last time..

  She felt her mind connect with his, felt the telepathy overtake them both. She whispered words of love and encouragement – words that were not words at all, not discrete and separate things, but a single stream of passion and emotion. This time Octavius did not hold back. He kissed her back, as roughly and yet tenderly as she had ever wanted him to kiss her, opening his mouth to her lips. He did not resist. He did not pull away.