Dark Studies (Arcaneology)

by C. P. Foster

  The truck lurched to a halt.

  Rimbeau’s expression twisted into a snarl of annoyance. He tossed her away from him. Angie’s consciousness flickered in and out as she bounced across the truck bed, her injuries each fighting the other for attention. The ringing sound grew louder.

  The vampire flung the doors of the truck open.

  Lurid red and blue lights assaulted the dim interior, casting Rimbeau into silhouette, and she realized the sound had not been inside her head at all. Police sirens wailed. Someone shouted an order, and Angie glimpsed something being thrown into the air, wide as a blanket, made of glittering strands. A net. They’d tried to catch Rimbeau in a silver net, but he shot into the night sky and vanished before the thing had fully unfolded. It fell onto the bed of the truck.

  “Where is he?” a woman shouted.

  A few shots rang out, but a man’s voice cut across them. “Don’t fire unless you can see him.”

  “Oh, my God.”

  This last was closer than the rest. Angie tried to sit up, but it felt as though someone had cast her in cement. The best she could do was raise her head.

  Ron stared at her. The look on his face told her that the damage Rimbeau had inflicted might be beyond repair. She stopped trying to get up, and instead curled into a loose ball and closed her eyes.

  “Get the medics!” he shouted. “She’s in shock. Find some blankets. Come on, move!”

  Consciousness brought the smell of antiseptic. Gradually, Angie became aware of the beeping of electronic instruments and the rustle of someone moving nearby. She considered opening her eyes, or at least saying something to let the person know she was awake, but she couldn’t summon the strength.

  “She can’t speak for herself. It’s up to you, Mr. Morgan.”

  James was here. She could rest without worrying about anything, trusting he would always act in her best interests. All would be well.

  “I know.” The familiar voice soothed her. “She will be furious, but as you say, it is my decision. Do what you must.”

  Furious? James could be frustrating and even condescending at times, but he’d never really made her angry. Angie decided she must be dreaming and let herself drift away in the darkness.

  Darkness congealed into dreams. Vampires. One after another, threatening, hurting, some maddened with hunger and out of control, others deliberate and subtle in their cruelty. Past and present jumbled together with one constant holding them together: pain.

  “Keep her still or she’ll pull out the IV. Careful, watch the shoulder! Miss Sullivan? Miss Sullivan, calm down. You’re safe.”

  It took a few seconds to remember that Sullivan was her alias. Angie opened her eyes and fell still, breathing hard. Her gaze darted around the room. She lay in a bed, surrounded by people in white coats and medical scrubs. Dim light filtered through curtains. The hands that gripped her arms and legs eased off. A nurse checked her IV and the leads connecting her to machines that monitored her vital signs, adjusting those that had come loose. Angie tried to sit up, but the hands quickly returned, urging her to stay still. She was happy to comply. Even that slight flexing of her abdominal muscles sent a burst of agony through her side.

  “Ribs?” she asked.

  “Yes.” To her left stood a man she assumed was a doctor, holding a medical chart. “One broken, one bruised.”

  She remembered the crack of the bone breaking, and with it the feel of Rimbeau’s mouth on hers, drinking in her screams. Her stomach turned over. Other memories followed. Angie raised a hand to her face, but again the attendants stopped her.

  “You don’t want to disturb the bandages,” one explained.

  Resisting took too much effort, so she gave in for the moment.

  “How bad?” Her voice sounded raspy, and she realized her mouth was as dry as sandpaper.

  The doctor studied her for a moment, as though deciding how much to say. “We weren’t sure you were going to make it.”

  The attendant who’d told her not to touch the bandages turned away and came back with a cup in his hand. He used a spoon to scoop out an ice chip and offered it to her.

  “Let it melt in your mouth. I know you’re thirsty, but we can’t let you drink anything yet.”

  She opened her mouth and let him put the ice chip on her tongue. The moisture was less than satisfying, but it did help.

  “Joseph. Ron. Are they…”

  A new figure stepped forward, and relief washed through her as she recognized Ron. He nudged the other attendant aside so he could stand close.

  “We’re fine,” he told her. “I’m sorry we didn’t stop him from taking you, Miss Sullivan. For what it’s worth, there’s a death warrant out on him, and his accomplice is dead.”

  “Phosphorous grenade?” she mumbled.

  “That’s right. You saw the light?”

  “Mmm. How’d you find me?”

  “Tracking device in your shoe. We would have gotten to you sooner, but we decided to call in the cavalry. Figured two of us wouldn’t be enough, and it’d be best to get the law involved.”

  “Good.” Her eyelids felt heavy, and moving her mouth to speak was growing more difficult. “You didn’t tell me…about the tracker.”

  Ron shrugged. “Standard procedure. It’s good to have an ace up your sleeve the client doesn’t know about, in case she’s forced to reveal the security measures being taken.”

  “That’s enough for now. Let her get some rest.” The doctor herded everyone out while the nurse adjusted something connected to her IV. Painkillers oozed into her system and forced her already sleepy eyes to shut while her mind floated far, far away.

  Angie slept.

  “She’ll be fine. The new medication will heal the worst of her injuries. No, it isn’t as good as—absolutely not. She never would forgive me. I’ve known her a long time, Scott, at least as humans count it.”

  Silence.

  “She would rather be disfigured, even crippled for life, than ever take blood from one of us again…Do not ask me that. I have already said more than I should. What news on the Rocky Mountain Territory?”

  Another pause, longer this time.

  “Interesting. I shall be most curious to see how this plays out. Keep me informed. I must go now; I believe she is waking.”

  Even without the monitors, he would have heard her heart picking up speed and the change in her respiration. Angie was surprised it had taken him that long. Opening her eyes, she found her room dark except for the dim lights of the medical readouts and the display on his cell phone. He snapped it shut and tucked it into a pocket.

  “James.”

  “Angel.” Cool fingers closed around her hand. “We’ve been very worried about you. How are you feeling?”

  She took stock of herself before answering. “Thirsty. Can you help me sit up? The bed. There should a way to adjust it.”

  “I’ll call a nurse.”

  “No.” She squeezed his hand. “I just want you for a while. Please?”

  “I do not know how to operate the bed.”

  “That’s all right. Use pillows.”

  James slid one arm behind her and eased her into a sitting position. She tried not to use any muscles that would pull at the broken ribs, and felt only a few twinges as he placed pillows to prop her up. Her body ached from lying in the same position for too long.

  “You were talking to Scott.”

  “He is concerned about you.” Moving away, he picked up something, and she heard the gurgle of water being poured.

  “He thought you should have healed me with your blood.”

  James turned back and paused before giving her a glass. “Do not judge him too harshly, Angel. He knows you care for me. It makes no sense to him that you would refuse my blood, when there is already a bond between us.”

  “Does it make sense to you?”

  Angie held the glass with both hands and took a sip. Settling onto the edge of the bed, James brushed a few tangled strands of hair out o
f her face. She could only imagine the state it must be in. She’d have to ask one of the attendants to help her wash it.

  “It does now,” he said quietly. “But only because you have explained it to me. I think Scott would understand, too, given a chance.”

  “You like him.”

  James blinked. He put his hand on her knee, and she smiled. Most vampires did not understand the basic human need for physical contact. He might not either, but at least he was aware and willing to fill it, so long as it didn’t involve any sort of emotional intimacy. Touch was one thing. Feelings were another.

  “He has proven to be a good friend. I trust him.”

  Trust? James said that about very few people. He watched to see how she reacted. Why did it matter to him? She decided to think about this later and changed the subject. “What’s happening with Rimbeau?”

  “You need not worry about him any longer. He’s being hunted by humans and vampires alike. I can hardly credit his arrogance, thinking he could get away with such a thing unscathed.”

  “He couldn’t imagine getting caught. Probably wouldn’t have been if the guys hadn’t put that tracking device on me.”

  “Humans. It is hard to keep up with your ingenuity. We change so much more slowly than you.”

  “Lucky for us.” She took another drink, soothing her parched throat. She had to be careful not to gulp it all at once. “What’s going on in the Rocky Mountain Territory that has you so curious?”

  “You were more awake than I realized.” A note of amusement crept into his voice. “It is something even I did not foresee. When they found out what Rimbeau had done, his lieutenants called an emergency meeting of the Haven Masters. All of them withdrew their allegiance to him.”

  “You didn’t foresee that?”

  “Let me finish. The surprise is what they did next. We expected them to choose a new Monarch, but instead they have done something unprecedented. Humans have been doing it for centuries, but vampires have never attempted self-rule.”

  “Democracy?” That was a surprise. “You may change slowly,” Angie mused, “but you do change.”

  “I am intrigued to see what comes of it.”

  “So am I. It would be fascinating to study the process from the inside. The development of a new form of government in a species other than humans. Do you think they’ll keep a record that might be made accessible to scholars? Or perhaps grant interviews?”

  His laugh startled her into silence. “It’s good to hear you sounding like yourself, Angel. I was worried you might withdraw.”

  She smiled, but it was crooked with self-deprecation. “I am withdrawn, James. I’m just good at compartmentalizing it.”

  “Perhaps.” His tone softened. “But not as withdrawn as you once were, and part of you, the keen student of sentient nature, is not withdrawn at all. I find that encouraging.”

  Angie looked away. She’d been fighting the urge ever since she woke, but now she raised a hand to examine the bandages on her chest with trembling fingertips.

  “James,” she said quietly, “could you turn the lights up a little?”

  He did as she asked and watched her lift the bed sheet. She knew Rimbeau had done a great deal of damage. The bandages made it impossible to tell how bad it was, but at least her breasts looked symmetrical and the same size as before. She had feared he might have torn chunks of flesh from them.

  “Have you seen…can you tell me…”

  “Angel.” He guided her hands away and lowered the sheet back into place.

  She studied him, trying to guess the truth from what little his face revealed. What she saw didn’t seem to make any sense. Was it guilt? Surely not. Yet she was certain there was something he didn’t want to tell her. “Just say it. I’ll never look the same again, I understand that. You don’t need to break it to me gently. Not knowing is going to drive me crazy, so don’t make me take off these bandages to see for myself.”

  “I won’t.” James hesitated. “I fear you will be angry with me. Please understand I have done what I believe is best.”

  Tension crept into her body, and Angie’s eyes narrowed. “What have you done?”

  He sat on the side of the bed again. “There is a new treatment, not yet approved by human agencies. It is still being tested. I was able to obtain some of this medication for you. There was only a limited supply, so the doctors used it sparingly on the wounds your body could not have healed on its own. The torn skin and muscle will knit quickly, Angel, and there should be no scars. The rest is up to nature and your strong constitution.”

  He lowered his gaze, unable to meet hers, and Angie waited for the other shoe to drop. “The medication,” he said, “is derived from vampire blood.”

  She stared and pulled her hand out of his so abruptly that it made her gasp in pain. “How could you?” she whispered. “You said you understood.”

  “Hear me out,” he insisted.

  “I trusted you!”

  “Angel, listen to me. They have isolated certain healing agents and used them as the basis for this medication. It does not have the same effect as drinking our blood; it will not create any feelings or bonds. I swear this to you.”

  “How can you be sure, if it’s still being tested?” Panic made her pulse skyrocket. “Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to love someone no matter how much they hurt you, because you have no choice? Have you ever hated yourself for feelings you can’t control? I can handle scars on my skin, James, I can survive being physically crippled, but the damage to my soul—”

  “Please, calm yourself.” He used his most soothing tone. “Have I ever given you reason to doubt my judgment? I know you would have refused the treatment, and that would have been a mistake. Your fear is so powerful it blinds you.”

  Tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. He leaned closer and tried to take her hand again, but she slapped his away. This was a nightmare. The medication might not have the effect of real vampire blood, but he couldn’t possibly be sure. He had gambled with her sanity.

  Footsteps sounded down the hall. A nurse hurried into the room, took stock of the situation, and said, “Sir, I have to ask you to leave. You’re upsetting my patient.”

  James started to argue, but Angie didn’t give him the chance. “Get out,” she said. “I can’t stand to look at you.”

  “Angel…”

  “Go!”

  He went.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Convincing vampires to respect humans as equals is about as easy as teaching White Supremacists to respect black people and Jews. You can’t force someone to change their beliefs, so you have to start by making them change their behavior. That’s what laws are for. The rest will take longer.

  —Vanessa Van Sickle, head of the Covenant Enforcement Team

  Sarah Miller

  Twelve Years Ago

  As the Covenant Council held their meeting, Sarah, James, and Vanessa were taken to Ah-set’s suite. It was much larger than Sarah’s room and had neither bed nor coffin. Instead, there was a stone sarcophagus that might have come from ancient Egypt. How old was the creature that used it for her daily rest?

  Guards kept watch over them while the sarcophagus was removed and beds brought in. The moment the door closed, Vanessa grabbed Sarah’s shoulders and shook her. “Why would you do such a thing? I didn’t save your life just so you could throw it away!”

  “I’m not. You and your friends are the only vampires who ever tried to help us. I won’t let you die for that.”

  “I don’t want this.” Vanessa spun away to pace back and forth. Her creator watched them without comment.

  A smile dawned across Sarah’s face. “But I do. This is the second time in I don’t know how many years that I am able to do something I want. And the first time was because of you. I helped you kill that son of a bitch.” She shook her head in amazement. “I actually want something. Not just to stay alive or avoid pain. I want to do something, and I can. I will.”
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br />   Vanessa stopped and stared at her.

  “It will not come to that.” James, still standing by the door, tapped until one of the guards opened it. “Bring food, please. Miss Miller needs to eat. Bring blood for us as well. I don’t know how long we’ll be kept waiting.”

  The door closed, and he turned back to the two of them. His gaze fell on Sarah and stayed.

  “Well, don’t just stand there, explain what you mean.” Vanessa glared.

  One side of his mouth lifted a fraction. “What Miss Miller said about the human authorities is true, and the Covenant knows it. Our current agreement with human law enforcement is that if any human commits a crime against us, he or she will be turned over to them for justice, just as one of ours who commits a crime against a human will be given to us to punish. But if we turn Sarah over to the human authorities for the crime of killing one of us, it would mean exposing the atrocities committed by Antonio Romero and his kind. And that would surely start a war.”

  “How does that stop them from killing her?”

  “Tell me, have you ever seen such an execution as Romero described?”

  Vanessa frowned. “No.”

  “Before the Civil War, it was the punishment for slaves who turned against their vampire masters. They were property and had no rights. The entire plantation was forced to witness it, to terrify them into submission. If human neighbors learned of this they did not protest because they, too, killed slaves for attacking their owners. But slavery is illegal now, so the sentence would have to be carried out in secret.”

  Like a teacher waiting for a student to grasp the lesson being taught, James watched while his child worked it out.

  “If we did this and they found out,” she said slowly, “it would mean war. But if there aren’t any human witnesses, what would be the point?”

  “Correct. The purpose was to strike such fear into the hearts of humans that they would not dare rebel, but how is this point made if it is done in secret? I don’t know what the Council will decide, but I do not think they will kill her.”