by T. S. Ryder
She'd rip apart anybody who suggested that her sister wasn't good enough.
The walk to Ed's room was filled with awkward silence. Cleo didn't try to talk with Gordon. As far as she was concerned, he had no right to be here. A few of the staff and patients stared at him openly, but he didn't speak, either. He kept shooting Cleo suspicious glances, which she ignored.
Ed's room was on the top floor. It was decorated in bright pastels, butterfly stickers on the wall and a lacy pink bedspread. Ed was sitting at her desk, typing away madly on her computer. Cleo smiled and knocked on the door.
"Still working on your book?"
Ed looked up. A happy smile broke over her face and she jumped to her feet. "Cleo!
Cleo hugged her sister tightly. "I brought you some new perfume."
"That's great!" Ed stepped back and beamed. She looked down at the outfit Cleo was wearing and gasped. "Oh, can I have that dress?"
"Of course. As long as you give me back one of my other dresses so I don't walk home naked."
Ed giggled and ran to her dresser. She pulled out a wrinkled purple dress that had a large stain on the crystal-embossed bodice and ran back to Cleo. Gordon stood in the doorway, his eyes wide as he watched the exchange. Ed peered at him, stepping closer to Cleo.
"Is that your husband?"
Cleo laughed and shook her head. "No. This is Darius's friend, Gordon. But he is a vampire, like Darius is. Why don't you get to know him while I change?"
"Okay." Her sister strode to Gordon and stuck out her hand. "I'm Edyta but I don't like that name. I like to be called Ed."
Cleo slipped into the bathroom to change. When she came out, Ed was eagerly telling Gordon all about the book she was writing. A time-travel mystery centered on a fairy who didn't know he was a fairy. The hours flew by quickly, and all too soon Cleo had to leave. Ed was bright and cheerful as she said goodbye, but Cleo's heart felt heavy, the way it always did when she had to leave her sister.
"So." Gordon cleared his throat as they headed back outside. "Down syndrome?"
"Yeah. And schizophrenia. She doesn't do well outside of the hospital. I'm not a terrible sister," Cleo added, crossing her arms to hide the stain on her dress. "I just couldn't take care of her after our father died and our mother abandoned us. She needed more than I could give her, and… and she does much better inside the hospital, anyway. She has friends, people don't tease her, and there is always somebody there to look after her."
"Your mother abandoned you?"
Cleo winced. She forgot that even Darius didn't know her life story. "Don't tell Darius about this."
"Why? He could —"
"Help? Was that what you were going to say? Help what? There's nothing that can be done that hasn't already been done. I will not have my husband think less of me or pity me because of my sister. And I won't have her used against us. So just don't tell Darius."
After a moment, Gordon shrugged. "Fine. I won't tell him. But you should."
Cleo was silent. She wasn't going to tell Darius anything. He knew she had secrets. She wasn't asking for him to reveal his, so she wasn't going to reveal hers, either. Secrets were what kept them together.
Chapter Three – Darius
Darius had quickly realized that he was not going to be home for a few days. Maybe even weeks.
When he and his troops went to try to find information on where the Rebeluna might be hiding out, they got more than what had been expected. Instead of vague information, he got a witness who had overheard two shifters talking about their forest-camp. Drones had confirmed the existence of the camp.
It was clearly a trap, but still too good to pass up. Not going home was disappointing – more disappointing than usual. Probably because of Cleo's pregnancy. He wanted to know more. But that was why she didn't tell him, so he put her and the baby out of his mind as he followed the Rebeluna.
The taste of adrenaline-enriched blood was still thick on his tongue as he led his men through a thick forest. He was leading half a dozen men in from the north, and he had picked three captains to close in from the other directions. Around them, the elms, oaks, and Bosnian pines swayed and rustled in the wind. Animals called to each other, but there wasn't a sound or a scent of the shifter to be found.
All of Darius's nerves were on end as he breathed deeply through his nose to catch any shifter scents. He carried a bow and a quiver full of silver-tipped arrows. Guns were all but useless against shifters. The creatures could pick up the scent of gunpowder a mile away. But arrows had the extra benefit of being silent. The perfect weapon against the beasts.
He grinned when a slight rustling came from the trees above him – right after the wind had died down. An ambush. How quaint.
Without breaking stride, Darius turned and aimed his arrow into the darkness. The bow twanged, and the arrow leaped forward. It hit its target with a solid thump. A howl echoed in the small clearing.
Instantly, there were cries from all around, bursting in on his position. The roar of a bear was all the warning Darius received before the beast leaped from the treetops. She transformed mid-air, massive paws swiping at Darius' head. The vampire barely had time to dodge the blow.
He grabbed his radio. "Team Prima under attack. Continue the mission, do not deviate. I repeat, do not deviate."
The bear turned towards him. He dropped his bow; they were in too close quarters for him to use it. Instead, he pulled out a silver-infused knife. The bear came at him again, an arrow protruding from its shoulder. Darius bent his knees, waiting—
The bear lunged. Darius feinted to the left, and, as the massive creature followed, he ducked in under its head from the left. He jabbed the knife in under the bear's chin, feeling it sink deep into the soft spot right at the throat. Not deep enough. He yanked it back out and dodged under the bear's legs as it circled. Its teeth closed on a few strands of his hair, yanking them out.
Darius cut along the bear's belly before leaping into a nearby tree. It would buy him the precious few seconds he needed to take stock of the battle. The vampires were outnumbered, but not outmatched. Three of the shifters had already fallen. Half of them hadn't changed, the rest being wolves accompanied by one panther. They were counting on the bear, then.
Or buying the bear time.
The bear crashed into the tree, the whole thing vibrating to its top branches. The trunk cracked. Darius jumped, aiming for the bear's head. The beast reared to its hind legs, swiping at him. A massive paw caught his foot, making him spin in midair. The vampire grabbed a handful of shaggy fur and pulled himself in close to the bear's body, reaching around the thick neck to stab in her throat.
The blade sunk in to its hilt. Hot blood poured over his hands, smelling of the shifter. The bear made a gurgling roar.
Darius pushed himself off the creature's back, back-flipping to land lightly behind it. He stabbed into its hindquarters. Another roar and it stumbled around, claws slicing at him. It was slowing from the silver poisoning and neck wounds, though, and Darius easily dodged it. This battle would be over soon.
He glanced at his men as he slipped under the bear again, this time landing a solid blow just under its chin. His men were curtained off from him by the other shifters. Two more had fallen, the panther and a wolf. They were still outnumbered, but none of the shifters were following up with any vampires that backed away, though – only going after the ones that tried to come forward to help him.
So, they were counting on the bear to finish him. That was their mission: his death. Not just an ambush, but an assassination attempt.
Darius shook his head as he snatched his bow and arrow off the ground. A sniper's rifle would have done them a world of good if they wanted to assassinate him. But, like many of the vampires, they were stuck in the old ways of fighting.
As the bear came at him again, Darius notched an arrow to his bow. He stood his ground, aiming quickly before he let the arrow fly. It sunk deep into the bear's eye. Two more arrows, both to the heart, and the
bear collapsed. Her huge chest heaved.
Darius spun on his heel, firing arrows rapidly at the shifters attacking his men. Three were down before they realized that their bear had fallen. One of the wolves yipped, and the group scattered. Those that hadn't shifted turned into a variety of birds and took off, the remaining wolves bounding into the trees. Darius let off a few more arrows before they were gone.
An eagle screeched as it fell, an arrow having pierced its shoulder joint. One of his men pointed his revolver at the fallen eagle.
"Hold," Darius ordered. "Take that one as a prisoner."
He slung the bow around his body and retrieved his knife. The bear was shivering and twitching as the poison ate its way through its beastly body. Blood was still flowing generously, but this would be a painful way to die. The vampire knelt beside her head, stroking her coarse brown fur.
"Your wounds are fatal," he said under his breath. "Close your eyes and think of something you love."
Darius waited. The bear's eyes shone with fear but slowly closed. If he ever found himself in such a situation, he hoped that he would receive this same mercy. Pulling back the bear's head, he slit her throat, letting her bleed faster. He continued to stroke her fur until the bear stilled.
"My lord?" one of the sergeants came to him. "We have secured the prisoner."
Darius nodded to acknowledge him. He did not like killing. He didn't hesitate when he didn't have any other choice, but he didn’t like it. When he was a boy, his father would tell him he'd have to outgrow his compassion. Maybe it was because he was still only a young adult in the vampire world, but he never developed the thick skin that the older generations seemed to wear like badges of honor.
It was one of the reasons he liked having Cleo by his side. She was so good at finding other ways of currying favor that didn't include the violence dealt out on nights like this one. But, sometimes, killing was necessary. When two unbreakable winds crashed together, the only result could be violence until one surrendered.
Neither vampire nor shifter would ever surrender. Not until something changed.
Darius turned to the eagle. She had shifted back to human form, his arrow shot straight through her shoulder. The colonel studied her as he came closer. Sweat beaded her forehead, her eyes wide and fearful. Given that he had just killed a bear and was still stained in shifter blood, he didn't blame her. She was also stark naked.
"Give the prisoner your shirt," he ordered the nearest man. First aid would have to wait until they were out of the forest.
It wasn't often that they were able to get shifter prisoners. The eagle flinched as he knelt to her level, but lifted her chin. "No matter what you think you have won today, you have only made it worse for yourself in the end."
"I think you ought to be more worried about yourself. Once we return home, your fate is out of my hands. Tell me where the Rebeluna are and I can keep you a prisoner in my estate instead of sending you to the palace. You will be a prisoner, but you will be comfortable and in time I may be able to release you."
"I will tell you nothing," the eagle spat. "I will not betray my brothers and sisters."
Darius nodded. "I'm sure you won't tell me anything. I'm not an interrogator."
"Sir, we have reports from the other teams," his captain said. "The camp has been abandoned."
"This was an attempt to kill me. Nothing else. We have a prisoner. Leave the dead. Shifters prefer their corpses be scavenged and eaten, their bones spread about the forest, don't they? Their deaths bring life to others." Darius stood, his gaze never leaving the eagle. Her expression faltered and she looked away. "And, if I'm not mistaken, then at least we can allow their fellows to return and bury them. Let's go."
***
Darius sent the prisoner directly to the palace for her interrogation about the Rebeluna and whatever other information she carried. He returned home to his estate. Four of his men had received terrible wounds, one even losing a limb, and they needed rest.
As much as he knew that he shouldn’t be distracted by it, there was still the matter of Cleo's casually-announced pregnancy to take care of. He showered at the barracks before he returned to the house, not wanting to disturb her with evidence of the bloody battle.
He found her at the start of her bedtime routine and stepped up behind her, nibbling a little at her neck.
"You're home."
"I am. And we need to talk. Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant before this?"
"I told you, I didn't want you to worry about me when you should be worried about whether a shifter was going to rip your head off," Cleo said, slathering a clay mask over her face. She glanced at him in the mirror they both faced, expression blank.
"You did tell me that. But that's no excuse. You know as well as I that a healthy child born to me would increase my position. Proof that I can control myself enough to get a woman pregnant and not kill her in the process."
Cleo shrugged. "What difference does it make whether they know that now or later?"
Darius shook his head. He took the jar of clay from her hand. He began applying it on his wife's face, liking the chocolatey smell. After the week he'd had, maybe he could also use a mask. It was a bit girly, but it always seemed to calm him down. And it made Cleo laugh. Right now, he really needed to hear her laugh.
"It doesn't really matter if the court knows you're pregnant or not. But it matters to me, Cleo. It makes me wonder if you were deciding whether to terminate your pregnancy. And if you were—"
"I wasn't."
"Let me finish. I am telling you what I was thinking. If you were thinking about terminating the pregnancy, then, by not telling me you were pregnant, you show a lack of trust. That is unacceptable."
Cleo's sharp gaze softened as he smeared the clay on her chin. "That's not it, Darius. I know it's silly, but I was waiting for a special time to tell you. I was even wearing more fragrance than usual so that none of the other vampires could scent it. I wanted it to be… But then I realized how silly it was. I had you drink from me so that you'd know."
Darius felt his heart soften. He kissed his wife, clay lips and all. "I'm glad that you wanted it to be special, Cleo. Because it is. We might not love each other, but it's still our baby. You're allowed to be happy about that, you know."
"I am happy." She smiled hesitantly, then squeezed his hand. "Very happy."
"Good." He kissed her again. "Because I am, too."
Chapter Four – Cleo
Cleo folded her hands demurely in her lap, trying not to show her excitement. It wasn't often that the king paid a visit to a colonel's house, and yet Iosif had been at the estate for four hours now. He had spent the time in Darius's study, no doubt discussing the shifter problem. Cleo wanted to listen at the door, but that would reflect poorly on her. Thus, she busied herself with the normal things she did during the day.
Finally, Darius sent word for her to meet him in the parlor and Cleo hurried to the room. She had been waiting ever since.
Not that the wait hadn't been pleasant. The parlor was one of the rooms that she had decorated herself after marrying Darius. Before, the furniture had been moth-eaten and covered in cobwebs. Now it was a bright, sunny room with gothic-inspired chairs and couches. Dark wood carved in elaborate patterns trimmed the white crushed velvet. The carpet was a nice neutral gray-blue, the walls painted the color of a robin's egg with lacy white curtains framing the huge French windows. She had even added an old-fashioned hearth since it was unthinkable that a proper parlor wouldn’t have one.
After several moments of waiting, the door opened. Darius came in, followed by a tall, dignified-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair and brown eyes. Iosif, the king. Cleo got to her feet and curtsied gracefully. She was glad she had decided on a simple pink blouse paired with a white skirt. It was humble-looking. Like she wasn't trying to impress him. But it worked well on her, especially with her ruby necklace and her hair pulled back in a Greco-Roman goddess style.
"Your majest
y, may I introduce my wife, Cleo Paterson," Darius introduced. "Cleo, I would like you to meet His Majesty of the First Union, Slayer of the Dragon Alpha, King Iosif the Grand."
She curtsied again. "It's my greatest pleasure to meet you, your majesty."
"And mine to meet you." The king inclined his head. "You should be honored to have such a fine husband, Cleo. He has done the kingdom a great service. The Rebeluna prisoner he captured has informed us of many plotted attacks that we have since been able to stop. He has dealt a serious blow to the enemy."
"Oh, I am honored to be his wife." Cleo gave Darius a special smile, which he returned. "Even more honored to be carrying his child."
Iosif smiled. "I thought I smelled a pregnancy in this house. Take good care of your woman, Darius. A good woman is hard to find and easy to lose. You'll be seeing many more promotions in your future with her at your side."
Cleo's eyes brightened. Promotion? She had to stop herself from gasping. The king and Darius exchanged a few more pleasantries before parting ways. Cleo knew that they couldn't discuss it in public, so she dragged Darius up to their room before turning on him.
"Promotion?" she demanded.
"It will take a couple months before it's publically announced, but yes. I am being promoted to general."
Cleo clapped her hands and squealed. She hadn't expected it so quickly! But she already knew a dozen of the generals' wives, so she wouldn’t have problems getting introductions there.
A promotion! She would soon be a general's wife. Her influence would increase. Then the next step was to become a prince's wife. That was where the promotions would stop unless something happened to Camlo, the current heir, but even becoming a princess was something no person from her past ever expected her to achieve.
"I knew I made a good choice when I picked you for my husband," she said as she threw her arms around his neck. "You're amazing."