Rurik laughed, a little. “No, he does not enjoy being remembered by the humans. I suspect he will remove the ring when he no longer leads us in battle.”
His arm pressed against hers. She could lean away, but she didn’t. She liked it, the warmth and the strength and the solidness of him. She’d been isolated for so long, held prisoner, left alone with her books and her fear and the occasional terrifying vampire. And her magic. Always her magic.
“I’m done now,” she said. “There’s nothing else for me here. I should leave.”
Rurik tensed. “Why? You are one of us. You belong here.”
Nevada shook her head. She didn’t belong anywhere, and that was the problem. “I’m no solider. In a physical fight, I would be worse than useless.” She’d been in this house, in this room, for years. The vampires had tried to force her to unleash her inborn magic, to bloom so she could do as they wished. It had taken a while, but eventually it had happened. A dam had burst within her. In the past few months she’d discovered many things about herself. She could wield magic. She was a witch. No pointy hat or wart on the nose, and so far she hadn’t turned green, but still, she couldn’t deny who she was.
As Rurik said, a damned powerful witch.
Tempting as it was, how could she leave now and hide away when she could be an important part of this war? She’d learned to travel remotely, and had placed a protection spell on her family so they could escape this place. She’d ended the sanctuary spell and then recast it, and she had cast a spell to make it easier for the Warriors to come in. Well, easier for the conduits to hear and understand. Same thing. She’d charmed an ordinary ring in order to dampen Luca’s magic. She could do amazing stuff. If she put enough of herself into the task, she could find her family on her own. Until now, all her talents, all her energy, had been used for unselfish magic. She could not afford to think only of what she wanted for herself. That had not changed, and could not. Not yet.
Maybe there was a spell she hadn’t even thought of that could mean the difference between winning and losing. Maybe she could weaken Marie somehow, or find a way to give the Warriors an edge. Tempted as she was, how could she leave?
“What news of the war?” she asked, eager to change the subject. After all, it wasn’t like she knew anything she wasn’t told. There was no TV in her room, she didn’t have a computer or a cell phone, and even if she did, how could she trust anything she might see on the news?
“Marie’s efforts are not particularly organized,” Rurik said. “There are skirmishes each night, packs of vampires on the streets. We eliminate all we can, but there are always more.”
“The military has to be on this, right? Police, too. Right?”
“Some, but they are not equipped to do battle with Marie and her monsters. They do not yet understand, though we have warned them, we have told them how to fight against Marie’s soldiers." Rurik shook his head. "They seem reluctant to believe us. The White House and the Capitol Building are being heavily guarded, and so far those within them are safe. For now, the more dangerous areas are in the outskirts, where ordinary people live.”
Ordinary people would have no idea how to fight against vampires. None. “If Marie and her soldiers can turn enough people, if more vampires flock to the city, how long before they can take on any army?”
Rurik shrugged his broad shoulders.
Nevada took a deep breath. She was decided. “I’ll stay, at least for now. I have books to study. Spells to try. I can always experiment on you.” She meant it as a tease, but it came out sounding a bit creepy. Still, he smiled.
“You may experiment on me any time.” With that, he stood. “We’re moving to a new headquarters soon.”
“Where?”
“I do not know.”
In all honestly, Nevada didn’t care where they went. She wanted out of this place. Marie had been here, in Nevada’s room, in these hallways. Marie and some of her most disgusting, evil henchmen. She wouldn’t mind being in a place where those vampires had never been, a place where the air she breathed had never been tainted with the scent of an evil self-proclaimed vampire queen.
“Marie will find me wherever I am, if she sets her mind to it,” Nevada said.
Rurik looked her in the eye, then. Nevada felt his determination to her very bones.
“She will have to come through me, if she is so foolish.”
Those dark eyes smoldered, and Nevada’s stomach fluttered. She was pretty sure he liked her. Either that, or he was a big flirt and she was the only unattached girl around for him to play with. He wasn’t what she’d call cute, but he was definitely a stud. In the past, she’d always fallen for skinny nerds, brains over muscles, glasses and smarts over swords and brawn. That Nevada had been a different person. Sorin might as weIl have killed her back then. The naive college student whose dreams were simple — a good job, a smart husband, a couple of beautiful kids one day — was gone.
She could hope she and Rurik might date when this was over, to see if there was really anything between them, but when this was over, if it was ever over, he’d go back to wherever he’d come from.
Too bad.
* * *
The door was unlocked. That in itself was unusual. Sorin stepped into the open entryway, his eyes adjusting instantly to the darkness. He stood very still. He listened. Someone was here, but the place wasn’t filled with the kindred as he had suspected it might be.
“Sorin, thank the heavens.”
Pablo stepped into Sorin’s line of vision. Wearing the ceremonial robe of the Council, Pablo wrung his hands in evident dismay. “I had begun to think no one would come. This is a disaster, a disaster, I tell you.”
“I agree. Are you here alone?”
“Yes. The others all fled. Cowards,” he muttered. “They were afraid of this uprising. They’re afraid that vampires might be emboldened to attack the Council members who have guided them for so long.”
Guided? Not the word Sorin would’ve chosen. The Council had been a collection of power-hungry dictators who didn’t hesitate to end anyone who got in their way or did not follow their set of rules to the letter. Marie had been one of them. It was no wonder Luca and the others hadn't bothered to try to include the Council in this war. He was a bit surprised that other vampires had not come here looking for protection or assistance. That alone was enough to tell Sorin how unpopular the Council had become. Not only unpopular, but insignificant.
“Well, I'm not entirely alone,” Pablo said with a wave of his hand. “There are a few humans in residence. I must be nourished, and I dare not leave. Someone has to maintain a semblance of order. This is our home. I will not desert.”
Sorin suspected Pablo simply had no place to go. He had been a Council member for far too long.
“How many is a few?” Sorin asked. The humans Pablo kept here were prisoners, as he himself had kept Nevada and her family prisoners.
“Four. Five if the elderly woman with the unfortunate limp has not yet passed. She didn’t look well the last time I saw her.”
Pablo and four or five weakened humans. Council headquarters was not a dangerous place, after all. Sorin was disappointed. He was itching for a fight, and he’d thought to find one here. “I have a companion on the front steps. I’m going to let her in now.”
“A companion?” Pablo asked.
Sorin ignored the question. What else was he to call Indikaiya? He could hardly refer to her as a friend, and it would not do to tell Pablo that the Immortal Warrior was here to take out the kindred.
When Indikaiya stepped inside at Sorin’s invitation, eyes sharp and sword drawn, Pablo backed away in fear.
“He’s the only one here, and he is no danger to us.” Sorin said. “Leave him be.”
She did not sheathe her sword. “We should find the fight that is moving closer and join in. There are only a few hours until sunrise, and…”
Sorin turned to Pablo. What the hell? If he was going to fight for the humans, he supposed
it wouldn’t hurt to throw himself whole-heartedly into his new role. Hero. Rescuer. Truth be told, he knew Indikaiya would be pissed if she found out people were being held here and he had abandoned them to Pablo.
He shouldn’t care what she thought, but he did.
“Show us to the humans.”
“Of course, you’re hungry.” Pablo led them to a stairway that wound down. The three of them moved quickly, efficiently. Faint lights lit the way at intervals of perhaps six feet. It was enough that even Indikaiya should be able to see. When they reached the proper level, Pablo led them down a long hallway, reaching into a pocket in his robe for a set of jangling keys. “Would you prefer male or female? Female, I suppose. I have a particularly tasty teenage girl in room six. The glamour is wearing off so she might fight you, but I’m sure a man of your stature will have no problem with that.” He chuckled. “Even I have no problem with her.”
He unlocked an unmarked door and swung it open to reveal a young, terrified girl who was half dressed and chained to her narrow bed. When the door opened, she screamed and yanked at her chains. Her eyes were dull and unfocused. If he passed her on the street he’d think her to be high on drugs.
How far gone was she? Had she been glamoured so many times her brain was gone? Had Pablo been feeding her his own blood, so that she might be on the edge of becoming what she so despised?
“Shut up, girl,” Pablo snapped. “Sit down and shut up and offer all you have to offer to your betters.”
Those were his last words, in this world or any other. Without warning, Indikaiya raised her sword, swung it, and took Pablo’s head. He had a moment to look surprised before he went to dust. Just a moment.
The pale, thin girl on the bed had a clear view of the beheading through the open door. She stopped screaming; she relaxed, her shoulders dropping slightly and her hand unclenching. “Please, please, let me out of this place. I want to go home, I just want to go home.”
Indikaiya retrieved the keys Pablo had dropped, keys that were sitting on top of a fine robe now filled with gray ash. “We will free her and the others before we move on to battle.”
Sorin took the keys from her and quickly found the one that fit the lock that held the girl’s chains. “How long have you been here?” he asked. He was careful not to show his fangs — even though he was hungry and she smelled tempting. It would not do for him to drink from a girl who’d been serving as a food source. He did not want to take the risk that she might be turned.
Besides, Indikaiya was watching.
“A few days, I think,” the girl said. When she was free she rubbed her wrists. “Time is weird here.”
In other words, she did not know.
“I shouldn’t have run away,” she whispered. “I never should’ve run away. I just want to go home now.”
Indikaiya took the heavy key ring from him and moved down the hallway, opening doors, searching empty rooms and those that housed prisoners, and releasing those prisoners.
Most seemed not too badly damaged by their time here, though there were a couple who were dazed into incoherence. The elderly woman Pablo had mentioned was indeed dead.
Four. There were a total of four living prisoners on this level.
Sorin explained what was going on, as simply as he could. He suggested that they wait in this building until the sun was up, before making their way to a safe place. He explained about the sanctuary spell, sunlight — the heart and the head. He and Indikaiya led the four up to the main floor, after gathering some food from a makeshift kitchen located on the prison level. Crackers and peanut butter. Bottled water. Stale bread and a jar of mixed nuts. It was better than nothing, but not by much.
He turned on a few low lights on the ground level. The humans were much happier when they could see into all corners. Indikaiya had also collected a lighter and a stack of old newspapers and magazines someone had left on the counter in that kitchen down below. He did not ask why. He did not have to.
“Eat,” Indikaiya said as the humans made themselves comfortable. They sat on the floor not far from the front entrance, holding onto food and water and one another. All were still dazed and damaged, but it was possible they would regain their minds. One day.
Indikaiya placed the newspapers and magazines beside a young man who looked slightly less far gone than the others. She handed him the lighter with some care. “Gather your strength and your courage, and stay here until the sun rises.” Her eyes grew hard as she added, “And as you leave, burn this unholy place to the ground.”
The man — a boy, really — nodded. He did have some of his wits about him, still. He added, in a lowered voice, “I believe I saw a propane tank in the kitchen. A small one, but still…”
“I’m not going back down there,” the girl Pablo had offered to Sorin said in a sharp voice. “Not now, not ever, not going back down.”
The man with the lighter seemed no more eager to retrieve the propane tank than the girl from room six did, and the other two were dazed beyond caring.
Sorin had once been beyond caring himself, but no more.
He reached into his coat pocket, retrieved the car keys, and tossed them to the boy who was, like it or not, now in charge of himself and the others. The kid caught the keys in the air. “Black Mustang, one block down,” Sorin instructed. “Get yourself and the others out of the city. Today.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
After Sorin collected the small propane tank located in the kitchen area on the level where the prisoners had been kept and gave it to the young man, Indikaiya and her vampire partner departed Vampire Council headquarters, leaving the former unwilling blood donors there waiting for the sun to rise. In this large city tonight, how many humans were doing just that? Waiting for the sun to rise. Hiding, cowering, believing — hoping — themselves caught in a nightmare that would soon end.
Indikaiya wondered if she’d ever get the unpleasant stench of the place she’d just departed out of her memory. No one else had seemed to notice the overpowering smell of blood and bleach and scented candles, but she had. Vampire Council headquarters was a place of nightmares.
Until he’d inexplicably given the keys to his vehicle to the former blood donor and instructed the boy to get out of town with the others, she’d assumed that she and Sorin would travel in that way to the site of a battle. Instead, they walked crisply, side by side, toward the sound of gunfire. Surrendering his vehicle had been out of character for Sorin, one that made her question everything she thought she knew of him. She had never seen him as one for self-sacrifice.
To be honest, she preferred walking to speeding along in that car Sorin seemed to enjoy. In the passenger seat she was out of control, entirely in his hands. She had rarely been comfortable in anyone else’s hands, least of all a vampire’s. She would also admit, it had been an effective mode of travel. Perhaps if someone taught her to drive and put the steering wheel in her hands…
But for now, they walked, following the sounds of war. Echoing gunshots and distant screams. It was more than sound that drew them, it was a particular energy in the air, an indefinable call she and Sorin both responded to on a soul-deep level. Indikaiya did not know precisely what they would find when they reached their destination. A battle, yes, but would it be a battle large or small? Soldiers or civilians against the vampires? Would any of her kind be there? The fight had begun, but this was a young war. Neither side was yet well organized. That would come.
She and Sorin did not speak for a while. They listened, aware of all that was taking place around them and of what was ahead. The battle grew closer with every step they took.
Finally, Sorin said, “I would have killed Pablo if you had not.”
Was that relief rushing through her? Why? Why did she care? “I’m glad to hear it,” she said, her voice flat. She did not want him to know that she cared at all for what he might or might not do.
“You have to know, a few weeks ago, that would not have been the case.” Sorin’s voice was not emo
tionless. He was angry. “I would’ve fed from that girl, no matter how close she was to turning or madness or death.”
Was it a confession? If so, why? His words revealed an unexpected honesty from him, and though he was obviously angry, she heard no regret. Had he not said that he had none? Sorin did not apologize, not for who he was or what he had done. Still, he was not the same man he’d been, not so long ago.
“What caused this change in you?”
He shrugged, as if gently throwing off the question, as if doing his best to make it unimportant. “I don’t know, not entirely. The revolution seemed like such a good idea, when I aligned myself with Marie. I’ve been hiding for hundreds of years, as my kind has done for so long. Why should I live in shadows when I’m stronger, longer-lived, better than any human?”
She heard the frustration in his voice, saw it in the tightening of his jaw. “And yet, you shifted to the other side. Your allegiance is no longer to that freedom which you profess to desire. Is it the witch? Have you come to care for her?”
He didn’t answer for a while, and then he said, “Yes.”
Of course. Why did that answer disappoint her, a little? To be honest, she was more than a little disappointed. Nevada was not much more than a child.
“Not in the way you imagine, though,” he added after a short pause.
“Explain,” she said simply.
“No.”
Even if she were inclined to push him to answer, which she was not, the time for conversation had passed. A human ran toward them. The man was dressed in a black uniform. No, dark blue. She had seen such a uniform on one of the conduits who had accompanied his Warrior to the mansion. The man gripped a weapon, a small gun, in his hand. He raised that gun, pulling the trigger as he screamed, “Fucking vampires!” Indikaiya and Sorin both leapt away, but that was unnecessary. He had already expended all the bullets.
“I am not a vampire!” Indikaiya shouted indignantly as the police officer ran past. How could the human have made such a horrible mistake?
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