Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Novels from Top Fantasy and Science Fiction Authors

by Gwynn White

  “And your people?” she asked in her child’s voice.

  He twitched up an eyebrow at that. No one cared about these things anymore. That their kind existed was enough. Too many had been lost as the world grew connected. Petty things like bloodlines were ridiculous and outdated notions. If she cared about that sort of thing, then she definitely wasn’t feral.

  “Frankish, more or less.”

  He used the term loosely. Names of places changed so often that they became almost meaningless given enough time. The truth was far more precise and to him, those names and faces—that entire, long ago life—was embedded in his memory. Like all vampires, Girard remembered his first life with the most clarity. It was the only life a vampire could truly call their own and he was fond of his origins and the world that had existed then. He considered himself French, but borders were changeable things in the world of humans. And the body he wore spoke with an American accent, so his birthplace wouldn’t be obvious to anyone.

  The girl shrugged, an entirely modern gesture that made her look like she was about to argue over the size of her allowance. His origins weren’t necessarily noble in the way an old one might look at it, but they weren’t humble by any means. She wasn’t impressed, but perhaps she was so old that even the label of Frankish meant nothing to her.

  This possibility interested him greatly.

  “May I know your name?” he asked, sticking with polite semi-deference. As a Guardian, he was immune to attack…in theory.

  The stars in her eyes returned, but this time from amusement. “You may call me Christina.”

  “I see.”

  Not supplying the name she received at her birth—or maybe his birth, because really, who knew with a vampire—was a slight. It was an even greater slight when in conversation with a Guardian. Of all the rules they lived by, and there were many, the rule of giving truth to a Guardian was one that had never changed.

  Then again, she might not remember her original name. That also happened with the old ones, but only the ones that were crazy.

  That she gave him the name of a child he was here to talk about was a challenge to his authority. Of course, she was also wearing that child’s face and body, so it was hardly something she could keep secret.

  “I’m here at the order of the Council. A situation in a small town in the middle of nowhere has led my investigation here. To you. You already know that though, don’t you?”

  Christina continued her slow circling and Girard rotated to keep her front and center. Her rosy lips slid up in a sideways smile, her expression going sly and naughty. They had played this circling game of hers for two rotations now and he wondered what her goal was. Disorient him? Allow someone to approach silently?

  That thought was interrupted by another voice, another woman, though a much older one. The voice had roughened with many years of use, but was still soft and well-controlled. “You’ll have to excuse my mother, Guardian. She is newly awakened after a long rest.”

  Girard backed up two quick steps. The motion would have been too fast for most humans to follow, but he had been in this body for over sixty years and it fit as if he had been born to it.

  The two vampires bracketed him, one to either side, but neither gave any indication of threat. Well, nothing other than sneaking in and being creepy. At least the girl had stopped her circling.

  Girard moved his suit jacket out of the way of his weapon, the glint of metal out of place in the mausoleum-like room. The scent of rosemary and the sulfur tang of ripe marshlands wafted out. Girard had grown used to it over the years, but it made the girl wrinkle her nose.

  The older woman held her hands out to her sides. “That’s not necessary, Guardian. I assure you, we intend no harm.” Her eyes flashed silver as she glanced at the girl. Clearly, she meant the words for her as much as for him.

  The girl only laughed, a breathy sound that echoed painfully in the space. She clasped her hands together in delight, almost as if she’d never seen anything like the tableau in front of her. Given the many points of light in her eyes, she was far too old for this situation to be new. Something was off with her and Girard’s nerves jangled. He hated when vampires in trouble were unpredictable.

  “I think I’d feel more comfortable if you two stood still…and stayed in front of me.” Keeping them both in his peripheral vision was making his head hurt and the pale clothing they wore blended in with the general paleness of the room. They were almost mirror images of each other in some ways. One young, one very old. The older woman’s dress was long and loose, but clearly well-tailored to look effortless without being shapeless. The pale expanse of linen was broken only by a necklace of gleaming blue stones, probably lapis lazuli and also probably very old. The girl was wearing a linen dress, but hers was tucked up into loose folds held in place by a golden belt, as if she were still following fashion as it was in ancient times.

  “Mother,” the older woman said, her tone almost impatient. She walked toward the center of the room, angling away from Girard so that she wasn’t coming straight at him. Her steps were purposefully loud, meant to advertise her location. The gleaming spots in her irises were almost as numerous as those of the girl.

  The girl rolled her eyes in a very human way and met the woman in the center of the room. The sloped shoulders made her appear no different than any modern tween being scolded. Their positions gave him maybe thirty feet of space to use if they made a move. It wasn’t enough, but he was a Guardian and in his prime. Both of them were at other points in the spectrum. The girl was clearly still getting used to a new body, and a small one on top of that. The other woman’s body must have well over a hundred years of use and was long past the point where she should have shifted to a new one. The body had probably been older even when she took it based on the sun damage that marred her cheeks. That was an uncommon choice and she walked with the stiffness of age.

  The process of aging was much slower once a vampire took a body, but it didn’t stop. Nothing could stop it entirely. The human form had its limitations and nothing was perfect. Hosting a vampire extended human life, but immortality was for the realms of fiction. Staying in an old body was a very risky proposition for a vampire and this woman had left old age behind a long time ago.

  Christina’s eyes narrowed as the woman took her hand and held it tight. It was clear the old woman was as unsure as Girard when it came to the girl’s next actions. The tight grip and strained expression gave her uncertainty away. Impaired thinking and rash behavior were a temporary side effect of a new body, particularly if the vampire had spent a considerable time hibernating. The taking of a body produced an intense euphoria that lingered, though at a much decreased level once the initial rush was over. Such pleasure could interfere with good judgement after a long spell of pain, followed by the eventual numbness that descended if a vampire rested too long. Not to mention that every memory the human held became dominant, their interests, their passions, their fears…all of it combined to overwhelm the vampire inside.

  But then again, sometimes the old ones were simply crazy. Like the ones who didn’t remember their names.

  “My name is Yadikira. This is my mother, Thalia. I welcome you, Girard the Guardian. May I ask what you seek from us?” The older woman spoke formally, the way vampires spoke when faced with something that made them uneasy.

  Weakness couldn’t be tolerated in their species, so they substituted running like hell with talking politely. It worked. Mostly.

  Even after all these centuries, he felt bad when situations like this came up. They didn’t come up often, but when they did, it rarely ended well. Losing a parent was never easy. Then again, he wasn’t sure of anything yet. Perhaps there was an explanation that he could buy. If this Thalia—or Christina—had only just risen after a long period of rest, she may not have even known the rules of this era. There were many exceptions and considerations when it came to applying vampire law. Vampire biology alone would require such exceptions, since at any
one time, a significant number of vampires might be in hibernation and entirely unaware of anything that changed in the living world.

  Change came slow, but change happened even within the stiff and formal vampire culture. Their species existed in a constant state of “catching up” with the humans, grudgingly adjusting their culture to remain invisible. Vampires were not magical creatures who absorbed knowledge. They were physical creatures and as flawed as any human. Only their ability to change bodies made them seem magical.

  The reality was far less mysterious. And also, less attractive.

  Girard met Yadikira’s gaze and saw the worry there. Best to get it over with. “Our central office noted an oddity in a little town in Kansas. A middle school burnt to the ground during a small assembly. Forty children and several teachers and school officials were killed in the blaze.”

  Watching Thalia carefully in his peripheral vision as he spoke, he detected a tightening in her limbs. Girard moved his hand another inch closer to his weapon. Thalia’s gaze grew stony, but she made no move to stop him.

  Yadikira caught the unspoken exchange and her forearm flexed as she squeezed her mother’s hand. “And we are in upstate New York, a very long way from Kansas. What can that have to do with us?”

  She seemed sincere. Was she unaware of how her mother had gotten the body she now wore? That seemed unlikely. It was impolite to comment on a new form with a relative stranger, but certainly not between friends or family. And since modern times had made changing bodies so hazardous, it was a cautious act. Everyone paid attention to such transitions.

  “You must be aware that she is wearing the body of one of those children.”

  A low vibration traveled through the floor to his feet. No sound accompanied it, but he knew what it was even so. It was coming from the girl, a primitive warning signal leftover from the primal eras before written memory. He’d heard it only from old ones, and usually right before they attacked.

  Yadikira must have felt it too, because she yanked the child close, enfolding the smaller frame in her arms as if to contain or protect her. “She didn’t know! She slept for almost two thousand years! How could she know?”

  Girard took an involuntary step back at her words. Two thousand years? How was that even possible? No one slept for that long without turning to dust. Death often came to vampires that only slept fifty or a hundred years. That’s how most vampires eventually died, by sleeping too long. There were very few vampires that lived long enough to reach a thousand years in age, let alone two thousand. And for that amount of time to be spent resting, how old must a vampire be?

  Thalia’s eyes had gone silvery again, the tiny points of light so numerous that they made her irises an almost solid silver. Calling her an old one would be an underestimation. She was an ancient…or even something beyond ancient.

  That changed everything.

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  Yadikira kept her arms around Thalia, pushing her so that the girl was protected behind the old woman’s back. The message was clear, even without words. Girard would have to go through the daughter to get to the mother, and she was an innocent, one so sparing that she used a body long past its useful life. He wouldn’t do that, not unless there was no other choice. They hadn’t reached that particular impasse yet. He hoped they never would.

  Many saw Girard as cold, lacking the warm connections others took for granted. A loner with a head for the vampire legal system and not a shred of sympathy. It wasn’t true, only an image he found useful. Girard was merely careful, wary of being hurt yet again. Live long enough and everyone grew calluses around their heart, whether human or vampire. It might be harder to break through his shell than most—even Girard would admit as much—but once past it he was as gooey as anyone else. And right now, his jaded heart felt a pang at the sight of Yadikira, her shoulders trembling as she stood between them.

  Courage and loyalty always stirred him.

  Behind Yadikira, the girl laughed again, but the sound was off, brittle and jagged. Definitely unbalanced. Yet, if she had been sleeping for that long, her disorientation would be severe now that she was awake. And in a new body? Well, it might be too much.

  “She might have been resting, but you understand the repercussions of any purposeful fire like that well enough. You know what you should have done. These things must be reported, dealt with.” Girard said the words with as little emotion as possible, trying to keep things calm.

  Yadikira’s arms shook from the odd position she was in, reaching behind her and holding on so tightly to the smaller girl. Her thin chest rose and fell quickly. “I wasn’t sure. She took the child in Egypt. I couldn’t be certain of the rest. She didn’t tell me much.”

  Girard nodded his understanding. He had suspected that possibility. Fires happened, even in schools. It was all that came with the fire that had brought it to the attention of the Guardians. The Guardians were few in number and their responsibilities many. In these days of internet connectivity and constant news, they no longer needed to travel the world and collect information that might be months old by the time they heard it. The Guardian compound was in the heart of the Northeast Territory and they left only to investigate those things that stirred their interest. The rest of the time, Girard—and the others—watched screens and scrolled the news. The once-onerous life of a Guardian now resembled the life of any other cubicle worker for the most part. The upside is that they were able to catch anything suspicious in their territory almost as soon as it happened.

  In this case, the details of the case couldn’t fail to rouse a second look. The fire had killed adults who should have herded their charges outside, and there should have been plenty of time to do that. The children not killed in the fire gave strangely similar reports and the fire was simply too complete. And most curious of all, one of the children reportedly killed by the fire had traveled to Egypt not long before the fire. While there, she was the subject of a brief alarm when she’d disappeared for several hours. Upon her return, unusual and disruptive behavior had been noted, an unexplained change in personality.

  All of that pointed to one thing: the illegal taking of a body.

  Taking a body was now bound by strict rules and regulations, but even before such rules were needed, there were customs that vampires adhered to for the safety of all their kind. Taking a body while it traveled had always been the preferred method. Friends and family expected changes in a person after long journeys, and disappearances while traveling were common enough before this modern era began. Also, travelers tended to have a bit more money, which was handy for a vampire. Sadly, none of these things were the case any longer, but any vampire who had rested for more than a hundred years wouldn’t know that.

  And two thousand years? Where would a newly woken vampire even start? It would be a bit like waking up on another planet with an entirely alien species. He was curious, but curiosity was for later.

  “And the school?” he asked, because really, that was the important subject here. These sorts of things had become increasingly difficult to cover up. And they shouldn’t have to do that. Human life was as valuable as vampire life and never for wasting.

  Vampires didn’t kill unless there was no other choice.

  Thalia’s voice was small when she answered and she didn’t show herself, remaining tucked behind her daughter’s body. “That was an accident and not of my design,” she said, but her voice was so different from before that she almost sounded like another person. A sad child, a frightened girl.

  Yadikira’s face crumpled at those words and in her gaze was a plea for her mother, a plea for understanding. “I’m helping her now. I promise I’ll take care of her until she understands the world. I swear it.”

  Again Girard nodded, but only in understanding. He could make no promises until he knew the circumstances. There were rules and there were consequences for breaking them. Then again, sometimes crimes weren’t crimes at all, but merely mistakes. It was the job of the Guardian to update the ne
wly risen on the rules as much as it was to enforce those rules.

  And to arrange for cover ups when the situation needed covering up.

  “Perhaps you could enlighten me,” Girard suggested. “I can only judge what I know.”

  The older woman almost shrank as she pushed out a breath, her relief apparent. While he couldn’t know the story they would tell him, she clearly felt it would be sufficient. That in itself gave him information. If the old woman thought that what they told him would erase the danger to her newly risen mother, then it was likely to do exactly that.

  Thalia had apparently grown tired of this little tableau, because she poked her head around her daughter’s body and frowned at Girard. The frightened girl was back to being the off-kilter vampire. “I never liked the Astynomia, even though I voted to create your forces. It seems nothing has changed with your kind. Still poking your noses into everything.”

  The sharp, but slightly petulant way she spoke forced a smile from Girard, though a small one. She had the flat Midwestern accent of her body’s origins, but she spoke like an ancient. Also, if she had been one of those who voted the Guardian’s into existence, then his estimates of her age were not nearly high enough.

  Yadikira glanced down at her mother, then back at Girard, very obviously weighing the situation. “I suppose we should talk. Perhaps we can sit? May I have your assurance that we are in no danger from you, Guardian?”

  Girard let his suit jacket fall back into place, hiding his pistol from view, though the scent of it would provide a constant reminder to them all. Thalia’s wide blue eyes tilted up as she grinned. He couldn’t decide if she grinned because she was crazy or because she knew it meant he wouldn’t dispatch her immediately.

  If he had to bet, he’d say crazy.

  “I’m ready to listen,” he said.

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