Diadem of Blood and Bones

by Ripley Proserpina

  “After a really intense staring contest,” Sylvain said. “Why did you do that?”

  Briar was silent, hoping her vampire would offer her some answers, but no. She was quiet and subdued. Though still angry.

  Her rage had gone from boiling to simmering, but it was there.

  Marcus studied her. His green eyes were dark, the pupil huge in the dim light. He frowned as he watched her and suddenly a wave of worry hit her.

  The waves of emotion had appeared to her before, but she’d never seen it form. It began in Marcus’s eyes, swirling and coalescing before his thoughts undulated outward and washed over her. What is happening to her? What is happening? I can’t do this alone. I’m alone.

  The last thought pierced Briar’s heart and her vampire sent out one more thought to her before she tucked herself away. Protect them.

  Sylvain

  “Hey.” Valen answered the phone casually, and Sylvain wanted to reach through the line and strangle him.

  “Hey?” Sylvain repeated. “Oh. Hey. How’s life in the Motor City?”

  “What happened?” Valen asked.

  Sylvain let out a breath, staring up at the bright blue sky. After getting back home, he’d seen Marcus and Briar settled, and left. Now, he walked the busy streets. The activity, as subdued as it was, would mask a conversation he didn’t want anyone else to hear.

  In the background, Sylvain heard Hudson’s rapid fire questions, but ignored him. “What do you think about Briar’s vampire?”

  “Sexy as hell.” Valen cleared his throat. “I mean… You know I’ve always had a thing for the warrior women.”

  Sylvain laughed. God. He missed his brother. Valen was his balance. “She single-handedly dusted a dozen crawlers.”

  “So what’s the problem?” Valen asked.

  “The problem is she had no idea she did it. She disappeared and the vampire took over.” A group of humans scurried along the sidewalk, and Sylvain stepped back onto the grass. They peered at him nervously before hurrying past. “Everything about her changed. Her face. Her eyes.”

  “What do you mean?” Valen’s voice seemed to echo, like he’d put Sylvain on speaker. “Shapeshifting?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Sylvain scrubbed his hand down his face. “No. I’m not talking shapeshifting, Valen.”

  “Her demeanor,” Hudson said from a distance. “Her vampire is separate enough from Briar to change the way Briar holds herself. Her posture. Or maybe the expressions on her face.”

  “Yes.” Hudson explained it exactly. “That’s what happens. She’s still her but not.”

  “Have you talked to her?” Valen asked. “Asked her about it? She ashed a dozen vampires? Alone? Where were you and Marcus? Was she hurt?”

  A police car drove by, siren blaring and Sylvain began walking in the direction it had gone. “She’s not hurt, but I think it worried her. I’ve seen Briar get thoughtful—like she’s listening. But this time… I don’t know… I think her vampire was angry and took over. We found some messed up shit last night.”

  In the background, there was rustling, and then Valen came on. “Hudson had to go.”

  “Just because he’s working his shit out doesn’t mean he should be avoiding this. You can’t be on a fucking vacation while we’re…” He thought about what they saw last night. The elderly couple in one house. The young roommates in another. A woman in her apartment. There were so many faces. So many deaths.

  “You think this is easy?” Valen asked. “I don’t want to be away from my family, but our brother needs me right now. He needs me to support him.”

  “You need to make him talk to Briar, Val,” he said.

  “Don’t tell me what I need to do, Sylvain. I’m doing the best I can.”

  Sylvain had no reply to that. He turned the corner to see the police car parked next to an ambulance and a fire truck. They were loading a body into the ambulance. From the scent of fresh blood and metal, the attack hadn’t happened long ago. “The human casualties are approaching a hundred,” Sylvain said. “We’re not making a dent in their numbers. Theia could be creating a soldier or crawler every time we kill one.”

  “Doubtful,” Valen said. “Creating vampires takes energy, and if she’s trying to control soldiers and crawlers, she’s not going to have any to spare. She’s not opening her veins. I’ll guarantee it. What we’re dealing with is an army Asher spent a hundred years creating.”

  “Valen,” Sylvain said. “I need to know how to help Briar. If you had seen her face when she came to. Saw what she did… One time I’ve been separate from the predator inside me. One time.”

  “That you know of,” Valen retorted.

  He guessed Valen could be right. Asher’s mind control was very different from Theia’s. Not so obvious. It fucked him up to think he had done things he didn’t remember, because Asher made him.

  “Can you teach her how to control it?” Valen asked. “What did you do to control your vampire?”

  Sylvain was quiet. He’d spent so long as a vampire, he rarely thought about how it was in the beginning. When he was first turned, his vampire was wholly strange to him. He would get feelings, words, or impressions from him—mostly encouraging Sylvain to feed or kill.

  Now, he thought about his vampire and turned his focus inward, trying to conjure the predator who had been his companion for four hundred years.

  Teach. Listen. The predator sounded like Sylvain, but without any of his manners. Ha! The predator thought that was hilarious. Sylvain with manners.

  How do I help Briar? Sylvain needed answers.

  Does she even need help? His predator was curious. Had Sylvain needed someone to teach him or had he needed acceptance? How had he come to this place, where he and the vampire were one and the same?

  “Sylvain?” Valen sounded worried.

  “Sorry,” Sylvain answered. “I have to go.”

  “You’ll call me.” It was not a question.

  “Yeah.” Whirling on his heel, he turned back to Marcus’s house. “I’ll call. And get Hudson to call Briar.”

  “I’m trying,” Valen said, though he didn’t sound hopeful.

  “Try harder,” he replied, and hung up. After a moment, however, guilt settled in his stomach and he called Valen back. “Bye.”

  Valen chuckled, and Sylvain couldn’t help grinning. “Bye, Sylvain.”

  Briar

  “Hello?” Briar felt stupid, facing the mirror and talking to herself. Her vampire was quiet. Really, really quiet. Like she’d put herself in a time out.

  “Who are you talking to?” Jumping, Briar clapped her hand over her heart. She should have heard Sylvain come into her room, but she was so focused, he’d been able to come upstairs, inside, and stand right behind her.

  Clearing her throat, she met his gaze in the mirror. “Um. Me. Sort of.”

  He studied her, head cocked to one side. “You’re upset with your vampire.”

  Quickly, Briar shook her head. But she wasn’t being completely honest. Seeing the bodies of the murdered humans had made her angry, but her vampire’s response frightened her. “She can’t push me out of the way like she did today.”

  Sylvain wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her against his chest. She fit perfectly beneath his chin, and he rubbed it on her hair, catching the strands in his stubble. “What did you see?” he asked. “When she took over.”

  It was hard to hold his gaze. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I don’t remember. It was like I stopped existing.”

  Sylvain sucked in a breath. “I don’t like that.”

  “I don’t either,” she answered. “What if one time I lose control and I disappear forever?”

  His arms tightened around her. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “Has it ever happened to you?” she asked.

  He held her gaze for a second before he shook his head. “Yes and no. Asher made me attack you, and I faded in and out. The times I was present, I fought him. But
I think my vampire fought him, too, even when I wasn’t there.” Gently, he turned her in his arms and stared down at her. “See, the thing is Briar, you and your vampire are two parts of the same whole. After a while, you don’t feel so separate. Your thoughts are your vampire’s. You can’t distinguish between one and the other.”

  “So I’m a freak?” she asked.

  “You’re asking a four-hundred year old vampire if you’re a freak. I’m not college educated, but even I can see the irony in that.”

  Briar dropped her head, forehead resting on him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. What to think.”

  “You were trying to talk to her,” he said. “How was that going?”

  “She’s not answering,” Briar replied. “I think she feels guilty.”

  “She shouldn’t.” Sylvain said harshly. “Those crawlers murdered twelve people last night, and they would have killed more if it hadn’t been for you.” He rubbed her back. “What helps you when you feel bad about something?”

  “You.” The answer came without thought. “You always make me feel better.”

  “Huh.” He sounded surprised. “I didn’t think you’d say that. I thought you’d say reading a book. Or talking to your mom. Or reading about more boring science.”

  She giggled. “Those things help, too. But what always makes me feel better is you.” She kissed his chest and then the bottom of his chin. “You.” She punctuated each word with a kiss. “You. You.”

  “What if I talk to her then?” Something prickled along Briar’s awareness. Her vampire had taken notice. Pulling back a little, Briar studied Sylvain. His concern was radiating off of him, though he was trying to act nonchalant. He was afraid he wouldn’t be helpful, and he wanted, so badly, to help her.

  Talk.

  Closing her eyes, Briar went inward. Could this even work? Usually, her vampire was a voice. And a feeling.

  But right now, there was nothing. Just that one word that seemed to hang in the air like clouds. What had happened to her when the vampire came into existence? Turning was the ultimate marriage of science and magic.

  First Asher, and then Sylvain, had given her their blood, and like a bloodborne virus, it had entered her body and changed her on a cellular level. She imagined Sylvain’s blood mingling with hers before it surrounded her cells. It would have cut into them, inserting its own DNA into the genes. Once that had happened, everything would have sped up. Maybe genes which had been dormant or mutated, like the one which had resulted in her EPP diagnosis, had turned on, making it so she could walk in sunlight.

  Other genes that were active could have shut down or become defective.

  Sleep, metabolism, strength, speed, healing. All of those systems changed. And as they did, as the metamorphosis happened, her vampire would have been born.

  For the first time since hearing this new voice, Briar saw her. She wasn’t formed, nor was her vampire a mirror image of herself. She was body armor, a shield. She was a mad scientist, activating systems and structures that hadn’t existed until she did.

  Turning. It was the perfect word for what happened to Briar’s body.

  Sylvain sucked in a breath. “I see her.”

  Briar opened her eyes. Sylvain stared at her, wonderstruck. “I see her.”

  “But I’m still here.” Briar was firmly seated in her body. What was it that Sylvain saw?

  “I see both of you.” He answered the question without her having to ask it. “Can I speak with her?”

  “Both of us?” How did he see both of them?

  “You stood up a little straighter. And the way you’re looking at me. I can’t explain it. But you’re both here.”

  He’s right.

  “Okay.” How do I let this happen? The vampire prodded her, like she’d stepped out of the shadows and touched Briar’s shoulder. It wasn’t a shove. It was a gentle nudge, asking permission.

  She wanted Briar’s voice, but Briar didn’t want to disappear. Reassurance flooded her as the vampire promised her she’d be there. So she did, and it was as easy as moving aside to let someone pass her on the sidewalk.

  “Hi,” Sylvain said, and Briar had to giggle. Except she didn’t. Her laughter was internal because her vampire had her voice.

  “Hello.” Her vampire studied Sylvain with interest. She was curious about what he wanted from her.

  “You’re powerful,” he said.

  “We’re powerful,” her vampire clarified. “Briar and me together. Not me. Not her.”

  Sylvain smiled and relaxed. “That’s true.”

  “What do you want?” she asked. Briar admired her directness, because she tended to beat around the bush. Her vampire went right to the heart of the matter.

  Sylvain dove in. “What should we do?” he asked. “Do we fight? Do we find Hudson? Do we leave Boston?”

  “Why would I know the answers to these questions?” she asked. “I’m newly born.”

  “You have instincts,” Sylvain argued, and her vampire’s irritation welled up inside her.

  “You have instincts as well,” she countered. “What do you think we should do?”

  The bedroom door opened and Marcus slid inside, freezing when he took in Sylvain and Briar. Her vampire tracked him as he moved to the opposite wall and leaned against it.

  “Kill all of them,” Sylvain growled. She turned her attention back to him. “Every last crawler and soldier. Any vampire who threatens to take power.”

  Raising an eyebrow, her vampire held Sylvain’s gaze. “That’s a very good idea. But it didn’t help last night, did it?”

  Sylvain shrugged, as if he wasn’t sure what lesson had been learned, so he took a different tack. “Is that why you’re hiding?”

  She bristled at the implication, but he was right. Her vampire was ashamed at losing control. It was just the death—the sheer waste of life—had overwhelmed her.

  “It didn’t help,” she repeated. “It’s too much. Too much power and too much control. The crawlers want me. Their minds are sick. Those creatures, they reach toward me, begging me to lead them. But what they want is death. That’s why I tucked Briar away. ”

  Sylvain didn’t answer but continued to study her. “You don’t need my help at all, do you?”

  What sort of help was he offering? “All I want is to protect. Briar loves you and so I do. I will protect all of you. We’re family, aren’t we?” It was all her vampire had to say, and so she stepped back, leaving Briar front and center.

  The moment the vampire was gone, Sylvain embraced Briar, holding her close. “That was weird, wasn’t it?” she asked. Another hand touched her hair. Marcus.

  “You mean weirder than having four vampire boyfriends?” Marcus asked.

  “Yes?”

  Sylvain drew back, and she studied him, searching his face for freaked-outedness. There was none. “There’s nothing about your vampire I don’t like. Remember what you told us when we first told you what we were? You said you loved us—and our vampires. Why would we feel any differently?”

  She rested her head on his chest again and closed her eyes, while inside her vampire gave her one more message. Protect them.

  Valen

  Hudson worked at his laptop constantly. Valen wished he could be of some help, but his skills were useless for what Hudson needed.

  So he kept in contact with Marcus and Sylvain. His brothers worried about Hudson, and called and texted multiple times a day, asking for updates. They didn’t ask if he’d made progress on his work; they asked if he was all right.

  But when Valen checked with Hudson, his answers were all about work. “I haven’t made any progress. I don’t know how to stop Theia from getting in my head. I don’t know if this will work. I don’t want to experiment if Briar could be hurt.”

  Valen argued that being away from Briar was more dangerous than being with her, but Hudson refused to entertain that idea. He wouldn’t go back to Briar unless he solved the problem of Theia. The end. Period.

&nbs
p; Sighing, he observed his brother. Hudson studied an image on his computer, every so often clicking between screens and making notations that held no meaning to Valen.

  Night fell.

  The motel where they stayed was one of the seedier in the area, but it had Wi-Fi and no one looked twice at them. They could stay inside for a week, and no one would knock on their door. Or Valen could go hunting, return covered in mud and dust, and they didn’t glance at him twice.

  Suddenly, Hudson jumped up and sank his fingers into his hair. “I don’t—I can’t—”

  “Hudson.” Valen used his most soothing voice. “You’ll figure it out.”

  “How?” his brother asked. He stared around the room, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know when she’s in my head. So how the hell am I supposed to stop her?”

  Valen didn’t know either, and it killed him. He’d never seen Hudson at a loss before and hated his helplessness to find the answers Hudson needed. Science held no interest for him, but he suddenly wished he’d studied like his brothers had, because he wouldn’t be in this position now. “How long have vampires existed, Hudson?” he asked.

  Hudson stopped pacing to glare at him. “How the hell should I know? As long as humans probably—three-hundred thousand years give or take.”

  “And in all that time, how long have vampires been able to walk in sunlight?”

  “As far as I know, only from the time I made the medicine. But if there were others like Briar, probably longer.” He sat on the bed, dropping his head into his hands.

  Kneeling, Valen attempted to look into his face. “Discounting Briar’s uniqueness, for as long as we’ve existed, no vampire ever walked in sunlight until you made it so. Do you recognize how extraordinary that is?”

  Shaking his head, Hudson continued to stare at the ground. “It doesn’t help here.”

  “I admit, there is a time constraint to your work that wasn’t present with your research before. But if anyone can figure it out, Hudson, it is you. Marcus and Sylvain will protect her with their lives, and Briar’s vampire is nothing to scoff at.”