by Karen Payton
“Well, let’s hope the hunting guardsmen are easily fooled.” Julian said grimly, and returned to surveying the terrain around them in silence.
The guardsmen were set to meet at the farmhouse about fifteen miles away, as expected, and the grid search would start there. A calculated guess by Serge. A harsh smile blanched Connor’s skin. I was thorough. I left no evidence of the kills. He had crumbled them to quarry dust and scattered the remains.
Ranging his glance over the North Downs of Kent, Connor could barely make out the eco-town entrance carved into the sloping fields. The fact the humans lived there undetected for years was another example of vampire complacency, and the ridiculous assumption that everything was under their control.
Julian took a deep breath and opened a prickly topic. “You know the council is still waiting for you to join the human breeding project? If you continue to delay, it will look suspicious.” He stared out across the fields while he waited for Connor to respond. The ten second rule of human conversation was a drop in the ocean. Vampires could wait unperturbed, indefinitely. Connor would reply, because he had no choice. Julian was speaking as the hive principal, and he expected an answer.
Eventually, Connor’s battle face gave way to a vicious snarl of contempt. “They know I’m committed to modifying animal blood. I’m still working on that.”
Julian appeared unfazed. He could also do scary when the situation demanded. “I don’t like it any more than you, but the bottom line is, when all our humans die, we die. They won’t breed-” Connor growled, and Julian raised his voice above it. “Pregnant women end their own lives rather than deliver a baby into our hands.”
“Can you blame them?” Connor muttered.
Julian glanced at Connor’s scowling profile. “We need to find a drug to calm them, one that will stop them hurting themselves, without harming their babies. Every month it gets harder to establish pregnancy; self-induced malnourishment will soon push us down the route of force-feeding the women with nutrients.” Julian shook his head. “This will only get uglier.”
Grinding his teeth, Connor whispered vehemently. “I can’t look Rebekah in the eye and be involved in such a project. I understand the urgency, but I can’t do it.”
“We are running out of time, Connor. There are worse things. The Hybrid Breeding Project. If trials start on that, then you will have real conflict.” Julian paused.
Connor eased the tension at the back of his neck. He hated being played, and he felt as though Julian’s words were a fishing line hooked into his flesh and pulled tight.
“Some are warming to the idea of finding a way to impregnate humans with vampire sperm. Who knows where that will end?” Julian snorted. The ‘some’ were being ‘warmed’ by Serge, who was stirring a placebo of hope inside their bored chests.
Connor’s fear of pregnancy colored every intimate moment he shared with Rebekah. “Have they thought about what happens if the human females all die? Does Serge even care?” Sarcasm bit into his tone.
The silence stretched in understanding of their shared conflict.
Julian stirred himself to say, “The autopsy you did on the girl who was raped by a vampire?” The tone implied the question ‘do you remember that?’
Of course I remember. Her face was carved into his mind, along with the blood-red anger he struggled to contain when he had cut open her dead flesh.
“Did it give us any clues?”
Julian’s conversational tone irked Connor. They were discussing human life, not what color shirt to wear.
“Only that we can rule out freezer burn. She died of internal bleeding related to broken bones, not the act itself.”
Connor was shocked at the buzz of satisfaction he felt when he uttered the words, and horrified that he found some comfort in them. He had been petrified that if he ever lost control with Rebekah, his icy temperature would cause soft-tissue damage. But, no. Just the pregnancy thing to worry about, then.
“How did it happen, anyway?” Connor cast a disapproving glance at Julian. “I thought they were better protected, being our lifeblood in every sense of the word.”
“His cluster leader put him forward to clean out farm quarters. He passed the control tests, but, when he found himself alone with a sleeping human. Well, you know how their smell percolates when they are warm.” Julian shrugged. “He was stupid. He needed rap-sleep but he didn’t realize until it was too late.”
Connor was stung by Julian’s matter-of-fact attitude; he was a farmer discussing livestock, clinical and detached. But then, my own attitude was the same, until Rebekah.
“He’s got an eternity to think it over, now. He’s dehydrating in Storage Facility Eight.” Aiming for persuasive and missing it by about a mile, frustration bit into his features, and Julian said, “Connor, please, think about the breeding program. We’re running out of resources, and incidents like that one only make it more urgent.”
“I can’t promise anything.” Connor gave himself a mental shake. I should be grateful Julian’s judgment is not clouded by obsession. I’m not sure I’d wish this Hell on anyone. “Let’s leave it there, hmm?” Connor said, glancing again at the camouflaged entrance of the eco-town. “We have more urgent things to think about. When should I move them out into the burrows? The timing is crucial. They must have enough time to recover from the exertion of crossing the meadow.” But if they are in hiding too long and the oxygen becomes thin, their breathing will sound like an express train to vampire ears.
Julian squinted up at the silver slice of the moon and said, “Serge’s attack is unsanctioned by the council, so he’ll probably use a vampire cluster leaving London on crop harvesting duty as a decoy, and send the guardsmen out while there’s a lot of vampire traffic.”
Connor nodded. “That makes sense. The quiet period at the blood dispensary is around two a.m. Only the occasional hunting party goes out after that. There’ll be a delivery from the farm about then, so there will be a lot of distractions.”
“I think you should get them out of the eco-town and in place by two.”
“That works. Human adrenalin levels are at their lowest around two a.m., and with the beta-blockers, too-” Connor rose smoothly to his feet. “I’ll have them in place and meet you back here.”
He frowned at Julian and took another breath to speak.
Julian laughed gently, executing a Boy Scout salute. “I promise to stay out of sight. They will not know I am here, not until afterwards. It won’t do to scare the horses.”
They were agreed that the sudden appearance of another vampire would make it impossible to keep the humans calm.
“I’ll see you back here then, at two,” Connor said, and loped away over the meadow, and disappeared into the blemish on the hillside.
He was not surprised when he slipped behind the heavy sackcloth curtain and Rebekah barreled into his chest. He laughed, despite the tension coiled inside his belly, and, clasping his hands carefully behind her, he swung her around.
As her feet found the floor again, her grip around his waist tightened, and the worry in her eyes dimmed the glow of her smile.
“Just the easy bit to do now, honey,” said Connor, dropping a kiss onto her upturned nose. “Getting George across the meadow without the old boy dislocating a hip.”
Rebekah landed a punch on his arm and hurt her hand. “Ouch,” she muttered as his cold fingers eased the pain, and he towed her slowly along the tunnels behind him.
“Are they in the meeting cavern?”
“Yes, all of them,” whispered Rebekah.
Connor stopped, and frowned, “All?”
“Yes. Greg went out and brought back the last of the away teams.”
“Okay, better they are here than stumbling around out there like a herd of elephants, I guess,” said Connor. With a murder of crows looking to hunt them down.
Connor stabbed his fingers through his hair and began walking again, “Twenty then, and they’ve all taken beta-blockers and used suppre
ssant spray? And did Harry have enough pelts to go around?”
Rebekah threw an untidy salute into the air, “All present and correct. And you’ll be pleased to know...” she wrinkled her nose. “The animal skins stink.”
“Good,” he said.
Connor entered the meeting cavern looking for Harry, to congratulate him.
Harry had impressed Connor once again. Even though his accelerated heart rate tap-danced over Connor’s ribcage whenever Harry caught sight of him, he did everything Connor asked without question.
Connor surveyed the room, zeroing in on the group gathered at the farthest possible point in the cavern. He knew the meeting with the assembled eco-town inhabitants was going to test his skills of persuasion, and falling back on his somewhat rusty bedside manner, Connor smiled.
The plans had already been laid out for them. Hiding, staying quiet, and remaining calm was all they were required to do. Connor’s grin was wry as the assembled heart rates thundered like stampeding buffalo. A tall order, apparently.
“Oscar, in case there is any doubt about Douglas.” Connor took Rebekah’s hand in his. “He stays in the vampire cave for this.”
Connor expected some protest, but, for once, Harry found a backbone and glared fiercely at the one person who dared to open his mouth in protest. The sound of clattering teeth when his jaw snapped hastily shut amused Connor.
Douglas was cowed, but he was still a distraction, and tonight was not a night for distractions. So, Douglas can take his chances in the vampire cave. Sweet irony, no matter if we win or lose, his life expectancy is tenuous.
“Let’s get moving. Oscar.” Connor’s glance settled on the mountain of muscle in the form of a man, with a rock steady heartbeat. “Hello, Greg,” Connor said.
Greg’s face still wore a grim combat mask of dried mud and smudges of charcoal. “Connor.” His short greeting was accompanied by an even shorter nod.
“Greg, you bring up the rear and make sure everyone gets outside safely, and I’ll meet you in the woods.” Connor checked his watch. “They have to be inside the burrows by oh-two-hundred hours. Oscar knows the way.”
Connor made his way back to the eco-town entrance, listening for the ambling approach of humans trying to be quiet. He felt better for seeing Greg. He knows the meaning of survival.
He watched the yeti-like fur-dressed figures emerge and almost smiled.
Sending the first wave out across the meadow, he tugged fur hoods straight and told each one to keep their chin down and keep moving. As the last in the conga line of humans set out across the grass, Connor raced ahead to check the woods one last time. The night air was crisp and still, and, when Rebekah came into view holding onto George to keep him upright, Connor dared to believe things would go smoothly.
Deep inside the wood, where the stagnant atmosphere beneath the heavy canopy made breathing harder, Rebekah clung to Connor’s hand as George descended into the hollowed out bunker Julian and Connor had prepared. His painfully slow pace was dictated by old bones, but Rebekah was glad for the extra precious moments with Connor.
“Rebekah,” he said quietly, turning to face her, “You remember what I told you?”
As she went to answer, his cold finger settled on her lips. He shook his head. “Rule one, absolutely no talking.” A tight smile softened the words. “The harmonic pitch of human voices carries. Promise me, no talking.”
Rebekah nodded dutifully, and with her free hand, crossed her heart.
His flint-like gaze glittering, Connor stared long and hard into her face. Pulling her close, he snaked his arm around her waist as, seeking reassurance, he kissed her. Rebekah, needing it too, pushed her fingers into his hair and clung to his body.
Panting quietly, he reluctantly eased his embrace. “Please, stay safe, honey, that’s all I ask. Do not move. Slow, calm breaths, and no matter what, under no circumstances come out until I come for you. Okay?”
Satisfied with her firm nod, he led her to the hole in the ground. As Connor steadied her path downward into the damp underground space, his urgent grip almost broke her fingers, until finally, he let her hand slip from his.
Rebekah turned away and, ducking her head, felt her way along the wall of wooden struts and gnarled tree roots overhead which gave the hideout strength.
Her sneakers sank into the newly excavated ground and darkness enveloped her. Eyes open or closed made no difference. Rebekah moved slowly forward in the narrow space, cringing as she trod on someone’s toes and squeezed the anonymous shoulder in apology. For Rebekah, losing the sense of sight was tough, but of course, she had agreed to double jeopardy, not talking was her side of the bargain. Doing what she was told was never easy. It was in her nature to kick against that, but, she had won a small victory.
Connor had wanted all the females split up, muttering something about eggs in one basket, which sounded a little unnerving. However, Rebekah insisted she and Leizle stay together, and he had reluctantly agreed as long as the other four women were in other burrows.
Wondering how much farther she had left to go, Rebekah paused to listen to the quiet breathing of those sharing her interment. The fingers of a cold slender hand closed over hers and she squeezed them in recognition. Leizle. As she settled beside her, Rebekah tightened her grip.
Scraping noises accompanied the gentle shower of disturbed earth as Connor covered the burrow’s entrance with a grid work of thin branches torn from trees far inside the woods and bound together with twine.
The shuffling sound of leaves being piled over the lattice of wood cramped Rebekah’s chest in rational fear. In the blackness, the sensation of becoming entombed settled like a shroud when the nocturnal sounds she took for granted were all but extinguished. Rebekah nervously licked her lips, and, tasting the hint-of-lemon flavor of Connor’s kiss once more, certainty filled her with quiet calm. She smiled in the darkness. Everything will be all right, I know it.
Still holding hands with Leizle on one side, Rebekah waved a hand in the air until she located Oscar’s solid fur-clad shoulder and followed the trail down to take his hand, too. She occupied her mind with Connor’s survival checklist, and the suffocating smell of the dank animal skins faded into the background. Joining hands and taking comfort from being part of the huddled group, she resisted the desperate urge to whisper. Connor had made the danger crystal clear.
Chapter 20
Connor turned over the mulched ground at the burrow entrance until the darker patina of disturbed leaves blended in. Pulling in a deep lungful of air and washing it across his palate, the result pleased him. He could barely detect the humans. They had been split into five groups, and the hiding part, at least, had been accomplished.
Connor still had mud under his fingernails from digging out of the large burrows. The chambers extending under the tree roots had taken him and Julian less than an hour to excavate. Connor had embraced the physical release of shoring up of the insides of the structures with tree branch supports. It had left his mind free to ramble, and to plan the campaign. I’ve done all I can.
Minutes crept by until it was half past two, and, reluctant to leave Rebekah, but knowing that staying near her would bring the guardsmen in too close, Connor moved back into the darkest shadows in the woods.
He took up the position as lookout, standing still, listening and waiting, and Julian set off to scout the farmhouse. It won’t be much of an early warning, but still...
Connor detected a change in the note of the breeze. He heard leaves rustle, and a scuttling of disturbed beetles. Here they come. An almost imperceptible plume of scent billowed as the guardsmen’s approach compressed fresh damp moss underfoot.
Julian had been gone three minutes.
Much as he would have preferred to see the threat first-hand, and enjoy the adrenalin buzz of preparing for battle, Connor was more comfortable being here, waiting. I would die for these humans, because of Rebekah. Julian is here only because of me. Julian lacked emotional commitment. He couldn’t f
eel compelled in the same way.
But, we are ready. Connor rocked on the balls of his feet, assessing the traction he would get on the loosely-packed woodland floor. Julian shared one passion with Connor, wholeheartedly. The enjoyment of the fight, especially when the enemy was Councilor Serge.
“They are on the move.” Julian’s tone was conversational as he appeared beside Connor. “Are the humans safely in the burrows?”
Connor nodded, scanning the woods and running his fingers over the vial of human blood resting inside his pocket. “How many?”
“Six, moving fast in an arrowhead formation.”
The plan was simply to allow the guardsmen to come close; it was a grid search, they would be scanning and their minds would be occupied with that. The human smells, strongest in the eco-town, would be an irresistible beacon which would draw them in; the dank, pungent, mulch-covered ground of the woods should provide cover for both the cantering sound of heartbeats and the faint aroma of fear.
Draw them in and dispatch them one at a time. The plan is simple.
“Here they come,” mouthed Julian.
Connor grinned with scathing satisfaction.
He knew vampire strength followed a predictable path. Being turned was the first step along the way; the human blood congealed in their veins gave new vampires great strength. But, with no control. When their own human blood decayed, they became weaker, and surviving conflict became more about cunning. Every decade that passed, transformed well-fed vampire cells into thirst pockets which, simply put, gave them devastating strength, and, by this time, they knew how to wield it.
Ice cold certainty that the approaching guardsmen were at the beginning of this path, with he and Julian at the end, lanced through his chest as Connor rehearsed the battle inside his mind.
The blanket of sound of fauna scurrying out of the way faded to an inhuman silence. The woodland seemed to hold its breath. Time to go.
Connor sought Julian’s agreement, and, finding it, he moved out.