by A C Warneke
“It depends on if that ally wants to eat us.”
She chuckled in spite of the seriousness of the conversation. It was apparent that Bruiser wasn’t ready to hear about Aradians and maybe he’d never be ready so she let the matter drop. It wasn’t as if he needed to know about Aradians and their relationship to vampires.
“Why is it you never wanted to play for the other side?” he asked abruptly, surprising her. “I thought most woman liked that whole dangerous, bad boy thing that vampires have going for them but not you, never you.” At her look of surprise, he added, “You’re well known in the Blood Soldiers world and we’ve all kept tabs on your exploits through the years. I mean, you are the daughter of the great Gustav Hunter, what do you expect?”
Of course, she knew about the rumors and innuendo and as she got older it had made her uncomfortable, especially around unfamiliar soldiers. She had to fight twice as hard to earn a smidgen of respect because too many of them thought she was there only because of her father. It wasn’t until after she got pregnant and found her calling in strategizing that the men began to take her more seriously. Then the war was over and they eventually went their separate ways.
“Well?” he prompted. “How have you remained faithful to the cause?”
“I see them for what they are,” she offered, though it wasn’t the entire explanation, especially since there wasn’t much she could tell him without explaining what she was. A hollow feeling settled in her stomach because her priorities had changed, since the birth of Toby and especially since she met Feryn. “What about you? I mean, most of the soldiers still thought the vampires were beautiful even when they were plotting raids to kill as many of those bastards as possible.”
He chuckled, “I guess it’s because oppression dressed up in a fancy face is still oppression and to a vampire, humans are cattle to be eaten and they would enslave us all if they could.”
“Don’t you ever wonder why they never did, though?”
“Because it is easier to enslave a people if you do it slowly,” he said philosophically. “Human instinct would have kicked in and they would have fought back so the vamps had to wait until they had the numbers before they could act en masse, which you know they were getting ready to do before the unexpected treaty. But they’ll try again, it’s just a matter of time.”
That was all the more reason to be wary of the other Aradians, especially the ones who continued to create vampires. Bruiser’s words particularly resonated after her encounter with Taella. The vamp-mad Aradian would rise from the ashes and if Feryn failed to deal with her, the next attack could be against the other Aradians. Despite Feryn’s assurances that Taella was no longer a threat, that her power had been eliminated with the death of her vampires, Malorie wasn’t convinced. Why she would worry about Taella now when she had so many other things to deal with was a mystery.
“Do you mind if I search my father’s rooms?” she asked after an hour or so of general chatting and giving him a sanitized version of her life since the days of being a soldier. Standing up, she stretched, careful to keep her stomach hidden. It would do no good to let Bruiser see the glimmering design on her skin.
“What’s really going on, Mal?” he asked once more. Damn, she should have remembered how clever he was, how he observed and listened and put everything together, even from things left unsaid. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here but your reason is weak, especially since you’ve carefully omitted any mention of your father, biding your time until now. So, what is it?”
“Gus is missing,” she finally admitted, the words cutting into her stomach because she had been able to forget for a little while. Saying it out loud was a reminder to how she had failed everyone because she had succumbed to a vampire’s bite on Christmas Eve, no matter how incredible her life had become since that fateful night. No matter that it hadn’t been a vampire. “When we went on the run we got separated and I’m trying to find his trail.”
“It’s been three months,” he said. “How do you know he hasn’t had an… accident?”
“It’s Gus,” she said helplessly, understanding the question he was really asking but Gus wasn’t dead. Offering a tremulous smile, she added, “You know that if something were to happen to him we’d all hear about it because when he finally bites the big one, he’ll take out as many vampires as he can.”
“Malorie,” Bruiser said quietly. Pushing himself to his feet, he walked over to the counter and grabbed a piece of paper from the bulletin board. Heaving a sigh, he reached backwards and handed her the paper without looking at her. “I didn’t tell you the complete truth when I told you I hadn’t heard from your father. He left a note pinned to the board and I read it, even though he left it for you. If he wanted to keep you in the dark about his whereabouts then there has to be a pretty damn good reason for it.”
Apprehensive, Malorie slowly reached out and warily took the piece of paper from Bruiser’s outstretched hand, her stomach knotting in on itself as she dreaded the words she would find.
Malorie –
Don’t look for me. We’re not in danger but it isn’t safe for you. Go to one of the safe houses and build a new life for you and Toby. I’ll find you when I return. If I return.
– G
After reading the note, she looked back at Bruiser, blinking the unexpected tears from her eyes as her brain analyzed the message. He was still with the Aradian and by using the word we then perhaps they were together and it wasn’t a hostage situation like she feared. Maybe her father truly didn’t wish to be found and she ran out on Feryn for no reason. “Oh.”
“Why don’t you get some rest, Mal,” Bruiser murmured, not quite meeting her eyes as he helped her to her feet. Out of all of the Soldiers, he was the one who probably understood her turmoil the best since he had been there when she had been brought in with her belly ripped open. She had been ten years old and determined to prove her worth, taking out a vampire before the vamp could take out her father. Unfortunately, the vamp had managed to slice its claws into her stomach just as she staked him and her victory was not without a price.
Malorie’s memories of that time were hazy but she remembered Bruiser. While she recovered, her father had refused to leave her side, bellowing at anyone who tried to make him. It had been Bruiser that had finally gotten her father to rest, bringing a spare cot into the triage area so Gustav could remain by her side as she healed. Bruiser also made sure her father kept his strength up, telling him he’d be no good to his daughter if he allowed himself to grow weak.
“Okay,” she murmured, still clutching the note in her cold fingers. Stiffly, she said good night and then staggered through the maze of corridors to the room that had been theirs when they lived here all of those years ago. Because Gus was the unspoken leader of all of the Blood Soldiers, he was always given the best accommodations, which wasn’t saying a lot since all of the accommodations were cramped and dank.
Closing the door behind her, she paced the small room, completing a circuit in eight steps. Her father didn’t want her to find him and he wasn’t sure if he would ever be back to find her. Did he know about her relationship with Feryn? Was his reluctance to return a sign of approval or disgust? Did he want to be left to his own devices because he hated what she had become, that she was mated to an Aradian?
But wasn’t he involved with an Aradian as well? Unless it was a hostage situation and he was trying to be as cryptic as possible, which was just as likely as not. Damn it.
Flinging herself onto the hard bed, she stared up at the ceiling as her fingers tapped compulsively against the sheet. The ceiling hung low in here, lower than any of the other rooms in the warehouse. Once, she had walked in on her father as he was putting a tile back up. He had acted like there was nothing out of the ordinary as he turned around to face her. When she had asked what he had been doing he had smiled and ruffled her short hair as he muttered, “I thought I heard some rats.”
It made sense at the time because rats were a p
roblem, even if she hadn’t understood why he would bother looking in the ceiling when there was so little they could do about them. But maybe it hadn’t been mice. Knowing her father, knowing how closely he kept his secrets, maybe it was a hiding place for whatever he wanted to remain hidden, from her, from the other soldiers.
Climbing onto the bed, she pushed the tile upwards and growled because it didn’t move so she moved onto the next one. After pushing at half a dozen tiles, she worried that his hidden cache was in a different warehouse in a different city. Well, she still had the rest of the room and she wasn’t going to give up until she either discovered the secret tile or exhausted all of the possibilities.
Of course, it required moving the bed around so she could reach the ceiling. She was pretty sure Bruiser was wondering what the hell she was doing but she was a girl on a mission. In the back of her mind, she realized that it was odd that none of the tiles even moved. Usually with a drop ceiling, all of the tiles gave way but these ones didn’t budge at all.
At all.
As if they were reinforced. Or had stuff on top of them.
Trying to be smart, she paused with her hands on her hips and tried to remember where her father had been when she had walked in on him. Closing her eyes, she tried to guide her thoughts back to her childhood but there were all of these other memories in the way. Instead of remembering her past, she found herself standing at the railing of a great ship staring out across the vast ocean as salty sea water misted her face. Only it wasn’t her face, it was Feryn’s, just as it wasn’t her memory but Feryn’s. It would take too much effort to sort through all of the memories and she knew that she was going to have to push at each tile until she found what she was looking for or admitted defeat.
With a low growl of frustration, she opened her eyes and hopped off the bed and dragged it to yet another location. For such a small room, it was surprisingly difficult to find the hidden access point. It would be just her luck that after all of this effort, she was probably going to discover nothing more than a stash of skin magazines.
Finally, finally, she pushed up and the tile gave way, at least a little. Trying not to think about what might be up there ready to bite her fingers, she slid her hand into the slit and blindingly searched for the latch that would release it. As the secret door sprang open, she was faced with a dark so dense she knew it was a small, storage room onto itself.
Uncertain of what she might find, she wandered out to the supply closet and grabbed a flashlight, offering a smile to the two men she passed. They didn’t look surprised at seeing her so she figured Bruiser must have told them she was there. If she had more time or her thoughts weren’t racing at a million miles an hours, she might have stopped and formally introduced herself.
Once more in her room, she locked the door behind her, climbed back onto the bed and turned on the flashlight. Anticipation made her skin prickle and eagerness made her stomach flip over on itself. Unless that was morning sickness, which liked rearing its diabolical head at the most inconvenient times.
What time was it? Or rather, what time was it at the Aradian islands, since she had left in the morning and arrived in New York at night? Either time moved differently in Aradian-land or she had been in the Netherspace for longer than she realized or the islands were on the other side of the world and not the Caribbean like she had assumed. She’d have to ask Feryn if she ever got the chance.
Shining the light into the gaping hole, she had to hold back the gasp at the sheer amount of stuff stored up there. Piles of money, weapons, papers, and, oddly enough, a doll. Ignoring the money and weapons, she grabbed the raggedy doll, the old memory hitting her like a ton of bricks.
Nadine and the best week of her young life.
Cradling the beloved doll to her chest, she smiled, remembering her one week of normalcy, of being a child and having friends and having no worries.
Before she went back to the island she should visit the woman who had given her something so very precious, a memory that had given her hope and a reason to keep fighting. Georgia wasn’t so very far away. She’d be able to hop on a bus and ride down. Or she could take some of the money and rent a car. Or, judging by the piles of cash that were up there, she could buy a car.
If she bought a car, would she be able to bring it back to the island with her? True, she had the sleek silver convertible that Feryn had given her but it wasn’t really her. It was too new, too expensive, too… shiny.
After quickly going through the papers, finding deeds to properties that were spread throughout the states and old newspapers, copies of various birth certificates under different names and matching social security cards, leather-bound books, and old journals filled with writings she’d never be able to decipher, she let the secret door fall closed, hearing the latch click back into place.
Still holding the doll, she climbed back down and went to grab some food from the little kitchenette. Afterwards, she got ready for bed because tomorrow was going to be a big day, with the drive down to Georgia and meeting the woman who had meant so much to her for a short period of time. She wondered if Nadine would even remember the little girl Malorie had been, if she’d recognize the woman she had become.
Despite the fears and doubts that rode her, she found that she missed Feryn and it went without question that she missed her son. She wondered how he was getting along with Jack since there was so much between them even though everything was different now. He had lost so much when he became a vampire and she still wasn’t sure he could be trusted, hence the need for Jiro to watch over him while she went on the search for her father.
At least the trip hadn’t been a total bust. She caught up with Bruiser and found Gus’s secret stash. Whether or not she continued searching for her father remained to be seen. Obviously he didn’t want to be found but he didn’t know how stubborn she could be or how greatly she wanted to find him.
Plus, she met an angel and learned that there were other creatures out there and not all of them were as evil as vampires.
A smile played at her lips as she thought about Officer Scott Macintyre and she wondered if she would ever meet him again. Either way, she knew he was going to be all right wherever he ended up. He was a good man, angel or not.
What a bizarre world she lived in.
“You’re our leader, Feryn,” Jiro whispered, urgency making his voice harsh. Grabbing Feryn’s arms and shaking him, Jiro hissed, “You have to break through this blackness and show the others that you are still the only one to lead us.”
Feryn heard the words his brother spoke but they didn’t penetrate his frozen soul. In the weeks since they buried his son, Feryn hadn’t felt anything. He didn’t want to feel anything because once he let even a drop of emotion in he knew it would destroy him.
No, he would simply fade away until he could join his father and the rest of the Aradians on the Otherworldly Planes. His brother would be able to rule the Breeder-born Aradians, no matter how loud or how often he protested otherwise. Jiro was just as strong and his brother wasn’t missing his heart, his soul.
Swallowing against the emotions that threatened to rise up and choke him, he rasped, “Make the arrangements, Jiro.”
“Don’t do anything rash, brother,” Jiro pleaded, desperation and fear burning in his silver-green eyes.
Feryn shook his head, “I have no desire to remain on this planet anymore.”
“Fuck, Feryn, I’m not ready,” Jiro growled, turning away and scrubbing his fingers through his bleached hair. “If you leave now, one of the vamp-mad Aradians is going to make a play for the throne and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to hold on.”
Feryn’s eyes closed as his brother chipped away at his icy, protective shell. The memory of holding Varick pierced his heart and he flinched, desperate to shut the pain off before it could spread. “I can’t.”
“I’m not asking for forever,” Jiro said, changing his tactics. Grabbing a chair, he sat down in front of his brother so Feryn coul
dn’t avoid looking at him. “Give me a few years, ten, fifteen at the most, and have my back as I grow into the role of Emperor.”
Looking at his brother, seeing the absolute terror at the thought of being emperor in his eyes, he wavered. “Five years.”
Jiro sighed, his eyes closing in relief that he managed to achieve any concessions from his brother. “What if I’m not ready?”
Feryn arched a brow, and Jiro widened his eyes in response. “Father stood with you for a hundred years before ascending. All I’m asking for is fifteen years, twenty or twenty-five tops.”
Despite the agony that pounded against its prison walls, Feryn smiled, “We’ll see how it’s going in five years….”
“Ten,” Jiro interrupted. “I need at least ten.”
“I am leaving, Jiro,” Feryn said firmly, standing up and walking over to the window. Staring blindly across the land that no longer held any beauty for him, he sighed, “No amount of time is going to change my mind.”
“Then promise me ten years,” Jiro insisted, coming to a stand next to him. “They have to see that you have confidence in me before they even think of following me, unless you want a vamp-mad Aradian to lead us. Despite being defeated at the moment, you know that they will recover eventually and they will be furious. The desire for vengeance will give them purpose and strength.”
Another shard of glass lodged itself in his belly as he thought about the monsters that led to his son’s death. Pressing a hand against his gut, he shook his head, “Seven years.”
“It’s not long enough….”
“It’s all I’m offering.”
“Then do everything in your power to demonstrate your strength and prove your faith in me,” Jiro growled. “Allow me to deal with the remaining vampires and have my back, no matter what.”