Resurrection

by Lissa Kasey

  Were there evil male witches? Probably. But not at any higher rate than female ones. In fact, in Seiran’s tenure as Director, he’d seen more than two dozen female witches tried for malevolent acts that could be called heinous. Not a single male. Some would call that a failure of the Dominion, others called it bias in favor of Seiran himself. But he didn’t believe in killing people for no reason, and left those sorts of monstrous decisions up to the courts. His job was simply to ensure the integrity of the evidence was sound.

  He stalked past her and down the hall toward the musty book archives that he’d made his home away from home. He’d call them back in himself, or go see them one by one if he had to. Either way, he was tired of all this bullshit hindering his investigations. “Forest, come,” Seiran commanded.

  The golem jolted as Seiran’s magic wrapped firmly around it again, and followed. Gabe taking up the rear.

  “That is the sort of magic that we used to kill male witches for,” Director Han said quietly, like she missed the good old days of burning anyone who disagreed with her at the stake.

  “The golem? Or me?” Seiran paused to look back and ask. He got the feeling she meant him. “Good day, Director Han. I’d appreciate if you’d stay out of the Investigations Unit in the future, and I will be taking this to the counsel about your overreach.” He was done being nice, and now he had a lot of fucking cleanup to do before he even got a chance to follow the trail of a murderer.

  Chapter 10

  “I get the feeling this sort of thing happens often?” Gabe asked quietly as he followed Seiran through a dark length of several corridors.

  “Unfortunately,” Seiran said.

  The show at the main desk above had been impressive, and a bit intense. Gabe had felt Seiran’s magic rise, and had tamped down hard on his control to keep from drawing more of the power into himself. If the witches had felt any of the rolling boil of the earth lingering like the abyss of ultimate power that Seiran seemed to teeter on the edge of, they wouldn’t have given him shit. As it was, Gabe almost blacked out for a half second, the power that incredible. How it didn’t tear the witch up was unfathomable. “Seems like they’d get the point?”

  “The Dominion changes up the guards often. And a lot of the Directors are old, set in their ways, like Han.” Seiran led them through a double door and the dank, dark areas of the bowels of the building suddenly seemed to brighten. Not due to windows or anything like natural light. In fact, the walls seemed to be made from stone, carved out of a rock tunnel perhaps, rather than built with man-made material. But the lights were bright. Dozens of sunlamp-looking things, and walls of greenery decorated a wide reception area.

  Wards wrapped around them. At first it was a bit suffocating, and painful, like Gabe was encased in stone. He stopped for a minute, fearing that pressing forward would destroy him somehow, but after a few seconds passed it seemed to accept him and ease. The accompanying warmth, a sort of welcome edge of magic, enveloped the area. Seiran’s magic, perhaps? Or the wards welcoming his magic.

  A man sat behind the main desk, obviously some sort of reception area of this lower level. He was adorably young with high cheekbones, whiskey-colored eyes and glowing, teak shaded skin. Was he even old enough to work in a place like this? Maybe Gabe’s perception of age was off, and since the man worked for the Dominion, he was probably a witch. Slower aging perhaps? Although Gabe could vaguely recall that not all witches got that perk.

  The man stood when he saw Seiran. “Director Rou,” he greeted. “Director Han was here. She left files. She said she was taking over the interviews you had?”

  “Thank you, Page,” Seiran said. “Call the families. Tell them I need them back here now. Their release was not authorized by MI. And if I have to, I’ll have them all arrested.”

  Page nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

  Seiran sighed. “They don’t see you, Page. They only acknowledge me because of my power. I’m sorry you’re forced into this role.”

  “I love my job,” Page protested.

  “As my secretary?”

  “Assistant,” Page corrected. “I do more than answer phones. I work for the Pillar of Earth.” He sounded reverent with those last few words.

  “Right, ‘cause that’s a big deal,” Seiran grumbled as he walked past the desk and into a nearby office that was little more than a wall of windows surrounded by a well of plants.

  Gabe nodded his head at the young man, who widened his eyes when he saw Gabe, and the golem.

  “Oh, I forgot you had already left by the time I brought the golem in last night.” Seiran pointed at Forest. “That’s our golem. And that’s Gabe, a vampire…”

  “A vampire in the archives?”

  Gabe offered a hand. “Gabriel Santini,” he said, recalling what Max had said his name was.

  “I thought the only vampire Director Rou worked with was Mr. Mueller?” Page asked. He shook Gabe’s hand carefully, as though afraid to really touch him.

  A wallop of jealousy filled Gabe in that moment, and he couldn’t stop the rise of it from showing on his face. He knew because Page took a step back, even though the desk separated them.

  “Sorry,” Gabe said and took a few steps backward himself. “Mueller?” He asked Seiran, turning his gaze away from them both until he could control his reaction again. He hoped his eyes had only gone dark, and not red.

  “Sam,” Seiran said.

  “The guy with the attitude,” Gabe said thinking of the first vampire he’d encountered when he’d been pulled out of his grave.

  “That’s Sam,” Seiran agreed. “You’re too young to have ever met Gabe,” he told Page. “He went to ground almost fifteen years ago.”

  Page’s eyes widened further. “That’s a long time. I mean, I’ve read about how vampires go to ground, but never really thought how weird that must be to lose years.”

  “Weird,” Gabe said, “is an interesting term for it.” He felt some of the jealousy ease as he didn’t think Sam and Seiran had anything intimate going on. And if they did, it wasn’t really Gabe’s place to get between them, even if his vampire instincts went a little crazy.

  Gabe turned his attention to Seiran. “You told the other Director that vampires were used to create the golem. How can you tell?” Maybe it was the power Gabe was using to try to keep a leash on it that Seiran sensed?

  “Their soul energy, if that’s what you want to call it,” Seiran replied. “It feels vampire. I should have realized it last night when I was questioning it. But I’d been out of touch with the vampires for a while and forgotten the subtle differences.”

  “Vampires have souls?” Gabe clarified. He knew they had something that animated them, and a consciousness that was freethinking beyond the bloodlust, but seemed to recall something telling him vampires were soulless.

  “Vampires were human,” Page said from his place behind the desk. “We all have advanced studies now, after the Vampire War caused so much havoc. The fact that law makes them treat vampires as human is the only thing that keeps us civil. It makes sense that vampires would have souls, even if they would be changed much like their physical forms when they’re brought over. I’m sure there are lots of religious debates on it. Like some religions debate whether witches have souls or not.”

  “The whole soul debate in general is a mess. All sentient beings have a life force. All living things, even plants, have a life force. What doesn’t have a life force? Plastic,” Seiran said. “We poison the earth with more of it every day.”

  “Does She complain?” Page wondered out loud. “I mean I always thought maybe She would one day get mad and just wipe us all out.”

  “She is not happy about it and shows Her displeasure in small ways, that are growing in scale,” Seiran admitted. “Even I can only do so much to soothe Her.”

  “Mother Earth must be amazing,” Page said.

  “She is, and not always kind. Which I wish the world would remember.” Seiran dug through his desk,
unlocking drawers and pulling out files. The stack already on the top appeared to be from the unauthorized interviews. He barely glanced through them.

  “That’s fascinating,” Gabe said. “When was this Vampire War?”

  “About fourteen years ago,” Page said.

  Around the time Gabe had gone to ground. Had he been part of it? Perhaps lost in bloodlust over some battle? If the revenant had risen, that could explain a lot of things. He watched Seiran’s body language, catching the nuance of tight shoulders, and lips pressed in a line as he flipped through the folders.

  “The acknowledgment that vampires are sentient beings and not just demons walking around eating people is what the agreements are founded on,” Page added.

  “Agreements?”

  “With humans and witches,” Page said.

  “The war was between vampires and humans and witches?” Gabe wondered. It seemed a very dumb thing for the vampires to try to demolish their food source. Why? Control? Were the vampires not allowed to feed?

  “The vampires wanted world domination,” Seiran said. “Tresler’s goal was to enslave the vampires to his will, and subjugate the rest of their food supply to little more than cattle. He underestimated his reach.”

  Tresler. The name brought a handful of images to mind. Gabe worked to not grab for them, instead letting them come and go, settling where they would. Mundane things, like meetings, or perceived conversations, but a bitterness lingered. Not emotionally, but more as a taste. Like some bitter reminder of a flavor. He caught the image of a bottle that seemed to be filled with blood.

  “Did we drink blood from bottles?” He asked before really thinking about it.

  Seiran sucked in a painful breath, but his gaze met Gabe’s. “It’s what he used to gain control of the vampires. Tainting the food supply with his blood. It’s not on the market anymore. Vampires have to get their blood the old-fashioned way.”

  “Hunting for it?” Gabe asked, knowing that couldn’t be true.

  “Yes, and no,” Seiran agreed. “Blood must be given freely. It can be bought from donors, like the packets in the freezer at home, or fresh from the vein if it’s consensual.”

  Gabe caught another flash memory of a club with willing donors who were all dying. The smell of their impending deaths foul. He could recall he’d fed from more than one throat there. It made his stomach clench. Hunger. He shouldn’t be hungry already. But even dying blood, fresh from a vein sounded better than something from a packet.

  “There were clubs?” Gabe asked quietly, sensing it was a bad topic, but wanting some clarification.

  “They are all gone. At least as far as I know. Outlawed,” Seiran’s tone was clipped and he didn’t look up.

  “The donors were not willing?” Gabe wondered.

  “The donors were often too far gone to realize they were being murdered.”

  “Some of them were addicts. Not drugs,” Page added quickly, “but of being bitten. I guess the allure of vampires is a thing?” His gaze looked over Gabe as though there was some sign saying this is what people liked about vampires. “In the bite, maybe? Not that you’re unattractive, Mr. Santini. I just mean… well, I’ve given blood, to like the Red Cross, before. And it wasn’t something I’d say would be addicting.”

  “There is mind magic in their bite,” Seiran said. “To make it hurt less. It is part of what creates the bond to eventually make someone a vampire. Without the bites, and the magic, there would be no vampire.”

  “Right,” Page agreed. “I think I remember reading that. Not sure I’d want my mind taken over like that.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way,” Gabe said. “The bite doesn’t have to hurt, even without the bond.” He could recall that was the reason vampires seduced their prey. It wasn’t like a human salivating over a hamburger. If the hamburger could fight back, maybe. But humans took to pretty words, and romantic interludes, easily enough. “Vampires don’t like to create those bonds. It leaves a little of them with each person they feed on.”

  He could recall the feeling of having too many tied to him, even in small ways. It became a lot of noise. Changing someone to a vampire would shift the drain to a battery to charge the vampire, but it was a lot of work to get there. More vampires under one Sire made the Sire more powerful, but too many bound servants became an issue. Unbound they died quickly, weeks maybe? He seemed to recall a handful of things that happened from a vampire feeding too often on one particular human.

  Gabe hugged himself and concentrated on his breathing for a minute as the memories fell into place. Not everything, not even by a quarter, but bits of how vampires functioned, adapted, and survived. Rules, guidelines, and eventually the Tri-Mega had kept control.

  “The Tri-Mega?” Gabe asked, suddenly remembering faces, Tresler among others.

  “Gone. All of them. There is no real ruling body of vampires anymore. Though Max gets pretty pissy if a vampire steps out of line. Usually sends Sam to take care of it,” Seiran said. “Each Master, the head of whatever city, is to control his or her nest. Max handles a lot of overseas stuff too, but I don’t think he wants total world domination. People in general seem to irritate him when they ask for too much.”

  Another memory. Tresler again being broken apart by plants. Hadn’t Max said Sam had done that? “Sam took out Tresler?”

  “And Galloway before him.”

  Page laughed. “I knew that guy was a badass.”

  “Don’t say that anywhere he can hear. His head is big enough,” Seiran said.”

  “Sam…” Gabe wished more of those memories would come back, but it was still shattered, the shards too small to piece together.

  “He’s not been a vampire that long. But he’s also a witch, so maybe that’s part of it. Forest, come sit in that chair,” Seiran directed the golem.

  Page paled, hands gripping the counter of his desk, gaze on the golem. Did it frighten him? The existence of it? Or could he sense the power trying to regain control?

  The golem moved, crossing the room and dropping into the chair. The fidgeting had stopped at least. Though Gabe still felt a tugging at it, like something was trying to call it, but all of that noise was muffled by the witch’s strength.

  “Forest?” Page asked.

  “The golem’s name,” Seiran said. “Can you pull all the books on golems and death magic from the archive? I think there are three or so. Though I don’t recall anything on vampires being used for this sort of thing. Or of actual souls being trapped inside.”

  “Sure,” Page replied slowly, backing toward another doorway. “Vampire souls? Who would have thought to use them to create a golem?”

  “Call the families first,” Seiran reminded him. “Get them back in here. I have to find out where they got it from.”

  “You don’t think one of them created it?” Page asked.

  “No. I think they got it somewhere. The magic they had in their dorm wasn’t the same as what’s in the golem. Someone in their family has some powerful skills with wards, but the golem wouldn’t have begun to unravel if it belonged to them.”

  “It doesn’t look like it’s unraveling now,” Page said staring at Forest.

  “My magic, and my blood,” Seiran said. “I’m hoping to unravel it soon.”

  “What will happen to the souls then?” Page asked. “I mean if they are vampire?”

  “They go wherever vampire souls go when they die.”

  “That’s really sad,” Page said.

  “It is. But hopefully we can stop it from happening to anyone else. Please get those students back in here.”

  “Of course, sorry.” Page nodded and returned to the desk picking up the receiver for the phone.

  He kept his gaze on the golem who was now seated in the corner of Seiran’s office. Gabe entered the room, feeling another roll of wards press against him, and then accept him. He closed the door behind him, giving them a bit of quiet as he composed himself. He could also feel Seiran clearer now. The wards w
rapped around them were his, and the warmth that gave life to the entire area, from the plants to the buzzing sense of welcome, all belonged to the witch.

  It made sense that Seiran would have created this as his home away from home. A sanctuary of earth magic and safety. He doubted anyone could actually enter Seiran’s office if he didn’t want them to. And Gabe suspected the wards would have slapped him down hard with little flex from their creator.

  “You okay?” Seiran asked as he pulled a laptop computer out of his bag and set it on the desk beside the files.

  “Yes,” Gabe said, feeling it was only half a lie. The sealing of that final ward seemed to stop the constant tug on the golem and he let his shoulders relax. If it had been created from vampires, that made sense, however, he wasn’t sure it was something they could control in the long run.

  “Murdered vampires?” He added as he examined the golem with that edge of magic which had awakened in him after his first true death. He had never thought of death magic as dark or evil really, as it was what made a vampire. Gabe could recall a handful of times he’d seen it used for purposes that could be called evil, but all magic was that way. “It feels like a vampire,” Gabe said quietly. “Hungry and a bit wild.”

  “You can feel it?”

  “Yes. I think through your blood? But it feels like a vampire, so I’m trying to wrap ties around it like I would a new vampire. Keep it from resisting so much.” It wasn’t all that unlike what Max had done to him, binding him at the core. Though Gabe had not given it blood, not as Max had given him. Perhaps that was why it was a lot of work to hold it?