by Caris Roane
He glanced around the spacious, two-story room. Shelves, ladders, books, and a spiral wrought-iron staircase. An upper landing and walkway traveled in a semicircle at a distance two-thirds of the way above the floor, where more shelves and books rose the remaining nine feet to the domed ceiling. A pair of crimson velvet drapes, which flanked a north-facing multipaned window, protected the museum-like contents of the library from direct light.
The whole mansion had been a combined effort, his sturdy masculine influence, and Helena’s ability to overcome his absurd rigidity and give real grace to every line. This had truly been their house and Helena had made it a home, especially once the children had come, his son and his daughter. Of course they were going to have a big family. Ten years later, Helena, Kerr and Christine were gone. They had left behind an enormous hole in his heart, one never to be filled, one covered with his vows.
His cell buzzed.
He slid the slim phone from the pocket of his pants and thumbed the strip. “Give.”
“Sorry, Kerrick. Time to rumble.” Thorne’s gravel voice had split into three resonances, a sure sign his stress level had cranked up another notch. Of all of Thorne’s abilities, and they were numerous, he could split his resonance better than anyone Kerrick knew.
He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “No problem. Where do you want me?”
“Central detected a large deployment at the Trough over downtown Phoenix. I’ve got Medichi in Awatukee, Zacharius and Jean-Pierre are working the White Tanks in Buckeye, Santiago is at New River, and I’m with Luken covering the Superstitions. I waited as long as I could, but I’ve never seen so many death vamps out in one night. We need you, buddy, and be prepared the moment Central folds you. There could be as many as twelve downtown.”
“Twelve? Three squads? Shit.”
“We’ve been up to our asses tonight.”
“You should have called me sooner.”
“Wanted to respect your sitch.”
He took a deep breath and asked the question. “Any sign of … the ascendiate?” He refused to say her name.
“Nope. Oh, shit. Five more just showed up.”
The line went dead. Kerrick stared at it and cursed. He waited. The phone buzzed again. Thank God. “Give.”
Thorne spoke fast. “Sorry. Luken’s got everything under control. Jeannie just patched in. She said she’s identified Leto at the Trough over Metro Phoenix as well.”
“Holy shit.” Leto never joined in the usual fray, since he served as one of the Commander’s most powerful generals. Then again, he ought to be since he was a former Warrior of the Blood, the Commander’s biggest prize in the last two hundred years. “Well, isn’t this a night for surprises. I guess this has to be about the ascendiate.”
“Looks like it. Sorry, brother. Oh, shit, motherfucker, four more pretty-boys just showed up, of an Asian variety this time. You know the drill with the ascendiate—seize and protect. The coordinates are laid in. Call Central when you’re ready.” Thorne hung up.
Kerrick stood up, folded off his jeans and tee, then folded on winged battle gear. He adjusted the weapons harness and with a thought brought the dagger into his hand from his weapons locker, securing it into the slot. He drew in a deep breath then adjusted his thick, heavy sandals. The kilt felt so very right and his wing-locks had already started to thrum.
With a thought, he folded his sword into his hand. He called Central and cursed silently, yet again, that he still couldn’t just dematerialize wherever the hell he needed to go.
“Hi, Jeannie. You still on?”
“Sure am. I’m taking Carla’s shift. She had a date. You ready, duhuro?”
He couldn’t believe she’d used that expression. Duhuro was an ancient form of address that annoyed the hell out of him. “You haven’t called me duhuro in at least a decade. You’d better cut that shit out, Jeannie, or I may have to come over and rough you up a bit.”
“Who’s stopping you,” she said, giggling. “My husband and I have an agreement. He gets Angelina Jolie and I get any of you warrior brothers, any time, any place.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Something inside him relaxed a little. He even smiled. The Twolings at Central were chosen for their calm under pressure, for their ability to handle tragedy, and mostly for their general all-around good humor. They were also a gum-popping bunch and they had his number.
“Fold me when you’re ready.”
“You got it. And Kerrick?”
“Yeah?”
“We’re all grateful for what you and the brothers do.”
Before he could respond, the vibration whispered through him.
A moment later he crouched right next to the Trough, sword in both hands. An extensive park covered the Borderland on Second Earth.
The Trough was the distance between the dimensions made of nether-space, which extended who knew how far below him. On Mortal Earth the downtown Phoenix Borderland made up the rest of the sandwich; two Borderlands and a Trough in between.
He shifted his gaze slowly, past Arizona sycamores and the occasional overgrown oleander. How many times had he battled death vampires in just this place? Tens of thousands of times. Yeah, he’d been fighting that long.
But tonight everything would be different. He could feel it. So, shit.
And no sign of Leto.
He felt his presence, though, the goddamn traitor.
The call to ascension burns in the heart,
But the rite of ascension begins with the mind.
—Collected Proverbs, Beatrice of Fourth
CHAPTER 8
At two forty in the morning, Alison rolled to a stop beneath a lone security light in the middle of the downtown Phoenix alley. She sat in her beat-up Nova, letting the engine idle for a few seconds before turning it off. Her heart slammed in her chest.
Why was she here?
So many reasons—a warrior who smelled of cardamom and had enormous white wings, death vampires, pale skin with a faintly blue hue, beautiful creatures, persistent dreams, dimensional worlds, a yearning.
Yes, a deep persistent yearning that never seemed to leave her.
Ascension.
A call to ascension.
She peeled her fingers off the steering wheel, settled her hands on her lap, then closed her eyes. She took deep breaths.
After a moment, the thumping of her heart settled … a little. Kerrick had said he wasn’t certain she had received a call to ascension. She wished now she’d thought to ask him some details about the process. Yet her instincts told her this was her call, all of it, the alley, meeting vampires at a club in downtown Phoenix, the dreams, the powerful yearnings.
She yearned for this world. Even the vein in her throat throbbed. Her eyes flashed open. She felt the pulse at her neck and she thought of Kerrick. She thought about his fangs piercing her neck and taking her blood.
She leaned back against the seat as desire bloomed between her legs, specific, real, sexual. How was this possible? To feel so much for someone she hardly knew, someone who was a vampire, and without understanding why, to want to give him her blood.
Reality tugged on her mind. If ascenders were vampires—some good, some very bad—then … logically … wouldn’t she become … a vampire?
She tried on the word, but how could it possibly fit? Vampires were supposed to be creatures of the dark, the undead, that which had no heart and lived on blood to survive.
She took another deep breath. Once more her hands gripped the steering wheel. The explanation that came to mind made sense: that somehow the darker element of the world of ascension, the habits of death vampires, had made its way into the culture of her world, enough to create the vampire mythos, creatures that moved in the shadows, enthralling humans, draining their blood.
But Kerrick, Warrior Kerrick, fought these addicted beings, killed them, worked as his conduct suggested, to protect both Mortal and Second Earth against their depredations. And he was a vampire, the best of vampires.
It all made sense … and yet … the reality of her present situation kept her fingers fused to the steering wheel.
She swallowed hard, once more forcing herself to relax. Tonight, this night, she would open a door to a different world, the world of the vampire, of winged beings with power matching her own, a world that included a man-warrior-vampire who was her equal.
Tonight, she would change her life forever. A tremor raced through her, of excitement, of fear, of hope.
She opened the car door, slid out, then drew in a deep breath. Even with her sweater on she was cold. She rubbed her arms and shivered. The desert temps dropped at night in early March.
As she looked up into the night sky, she recalled Kerrick mentioning the Borderlands. Without being told she knew this alley was a Borderland to the Second Dimension, a gateway to the world of the vampire. Her heart beat faster.
Her instincts shouted at her to run and hide, to leave this place, this moment of responding to a world she knew so little about. She looked down at the crumbling asphalt and thought again about just climbing back into her ragged car and running away.
But where would she go? Back to Carefree, to her sudoku puzzles and slavish addiction to old movies, to reading every night yet not really living, to working out in a gym and getting strong but for no particular purpose, no boyfriend, no possibility of children and a family, to be of only partial use to her future clients?
No. That was her old life and tonight that life passed away.
Once again she looked up. On opposite sides of the alley, two rows of buildings, also two stories in height, boxed in the backstreet. Beyond, only a handful of stars broke through the wedge of dark night sky.
Still looking up, she held out her right hand, palm up, the same hand that had recently held a pocket of time. The pressure in her chest grew, of longing for a new world, of needing to answer her call to ascension. The need swelled then spread to her limbs until she trembled. She felt tingling in a V down her back, the promise of wings.
All paths had led her here, to this moment, from the first time she had moved a toy as a toddler with just the wave of her finger.
Ascension was her destiny.
She seized energy from all around her, gathering power into her hand, as she never had before. Her heart thudded, swift and loud. She took a deep breath and without questioning what she was doing, she flipped her wrist backward then whipped it forward, sending at the same moment a concentrated blast upward into the night air.
The quick release flung her down hard onto the asphalt, bruising her backside, as electric shocks drove through her veins, muscles, and bones.
She pulled herself up and into a crouch, then hunched as close to the Nova as she could. If so much power had gone up into the air, something else might come falling down.
* * *
Kerrick remained in his crouch, near the Trough, waiting, listening, every sense on alert. He didn’t immediately mount his wings. He needed to see what the enemy intended first. He gripped his sword hard, his vision in constant motion, his hearing sharp. He heard laughter and extended his vision. Half a mile away Leto stood with twelve death vampires, just as Thorne had said.
There was only one reason such a large contingent would be present right now, and the truth hit him square in the face—Alison was below the Trough at the downtown Phoenix alley right in the middle of her call to ascension.
Shit.
As he watched the death vamps in the distance, he tried to understand what had brought him to exactly this point, above the Trough with the woman meant to be his breh waiting below. He’d been trying to escape this moment from the time he’d first caught her lavender scent.
Yet here he was, apparently destined to serve as her guardian.
Suddenly Leto’s unit dematerialized.
He kept very still.
All twelve materialized a hundred feet away, at the edge of the wash, all facing away from him and staring down into the Trough, waiting.
Kerrick’s heart beat a strong cadence in his ears, a heavy thump preparing him for what was going to happen in the next few minutes. No matter what, he had to get to Alison first. If even one of these death vamps preceded him, she’d be dead within the next ten minutes.
What he needed was for Endelle to dump him into the Trough, since she was the only one who had that kind of power. He also hoped like hell the opposition didn’t do the same. Provided that neither Leto nor any of the death vamps got dumped, a fall through a dimension would give him a lead time of four minutes, enough to get Alison to safety. Nothing less would do, even though it would hurt like hell.
Greaves could do a dump, and he’d heard rumors that at least one of his minions also had sufficient power. One more disadvantage for Endelle’s side.
He just had to trust the situation to work out. What he could do was keep all the death vamps in front of him so busy they’d have to stay put.
Endelle, he sent, hoping against hope she was tuned in to him.
Hang tough, Warrior, she responded instantly, straight into his head. Your lavender sweetheart’s call hasn’t made it to Second yet. That’s what all these morons are waiting for.
He took a breath. Thank God for Endelle.
I should give you a little warning, though. Leto’s packing a bomb, a little shredder package he won’t hesitate to use, so keep your nuts tight.
Don’t I always, he sent.
Endelle laughed then fell silent. After a moment, her voice pummeled the inside of his head. Holy shit! Can you hear that? Damn, this ascendiate has power.
Kerrick turned his attention to the Trough. He could feel it now, a deep vibration within the dimension. Beneath his sandals, the earth rattled back and forth, earthquake-fashion, and a sound like a freight train grew louder and louder.
The next moment an explosion ripped the air. The sand rose like a geyser straight up out of the Trough, a quarter of a mile high and a full ten feet across. He’d never seen anything like it in his life.
Holy shit. A hand-blast through a dimension.
He had never known an ascendiate with such a highly developed level of power. She would be one helluvan asset to Endelle and one huge threat to Greaves. No wonder he’d sent Leto and three squads of death vamps to head her off. He needed her dead. Period. And despite the big rule of no death vamps on Mortal Earth, this was war and the bastards would follow him into the Trough anyway. When Leto and his crew showed up on Mortal Earth, COPASS would treat it as part of the ascendiate’s rite of ascension and not the usual violation of Second Earth Law.
He sighed. Same old shit.
He thought of Alison, of having held her in his arms and how difficult it had been to penetrate her mind, the same woman who had folded out of the Blood and Bite.
He moved back several yards as the sand began cascading back on itself, falling into the wash as well as the surrounding lawn. Leto and his men dropped into crouches and took the brunt of the sand on their backs. One of the vamps writhed under the onslaught. The others held steady. Leto, as expected, didn’t flinch.
Kerrick focused on securing the ascendiate for Endelle. Nothing else mattered.
Leto rose and reached for his phone.
Kerrick called to him sharply, not wanting him to contact anyone who could start sending death vamps into the Trough. “Hey, dickheads. Looking for me?”
Twelve. Thirteen, counting Leto. Well … this would be a challenge. He dipped his chin. Bring it on.
Leto turned around, dispensed with his phone, folding his sword into his hand at the same time. “Well, if it isn’t Thorne’s lapdog. Look, boys. Cocksucker just arrived.”
“Fuck you, Leto.”
“You first, asshole.”
Kerrick would have preferred to mount his wings but since he’d be heading into the Trough, he couldn’t. You never got dumped in full-mount. The wings would never survive the fall. Besides, he could manage this bunch on solid ground.
Endelle? he sent.
Just
get me some blue skin first then prepare to get dumped. Whatever you do, don’t mount your wings.
Got it.
He lowered his head, lifted his sword, and with preternatural speed launched at all thirteen vampires at once.
* * *
“Will you look at that,” Endelle cried. Her chest felt on fire as she watched Kerrick fight. She had Marcus’s wrist in a stranglehold to keep him from folding into the fray. “Three down and the rest of those motherfuckers are scratching ass, wondering what the hell happened.”
Marcus shouted, “Endelle, let go of me. Now!”
“No can do, gorgeous.” Of course he was anxious to do battle. He was a goddamn warrior and she was streaming Kerrick’s moves straight into his head, a blow-by-blow event, which caused Marcus’s face to darken and his lips to curl into a fierce snarl.
She stood with him in front of her desk, restraining him. She wished she could have sent him immediately to back Kerrick up, but as much as she valued his readiness to wield the sword, she couldn’t risk the two of them being together right now, not with so much bad blood between them.
“Let me go!” he cried. “Ten to one. If Leto engages…”
She smiled. Marcus was a warrior at heart, in every cell of his body, no matter what he’d been doing for the last two hundred years.
“Relax. Be patient. Leto’s too busy texting, which tells me things have gone awry at the fucking compound. Besides, Kerrick is doing just fine.”
He outmatched all the death vamps in preternatural speed, which meant nearly every thrust or slice of his sword counted. She let out a loud whoop. “Two more bastards down and he’s barely started.” There was nothing so fine as watching one of her Warriors of the Blood, all virile, muscled, highly sexed vampires, doing what he did best with a sword in hand. She drew deep breaths, all the while keeping Marcus in check.
“Turn me loose,” he shouted. “He can’t defeat them all.”