Warrior Rising

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Sorin laughed.

  “It’s not funny! Why would he think I’m like you?”

  He was not offended, or at least, appeared not to be. The anger she had sensed in him earlier was gone. “You look as if you stepped out of another time,” he said.

  “I did!”

  “When we get a few minutes, we really do need to take you shopping.”

  Shopping? Ridiculous. She was ready to argue the point, but there was no time. Straight ahead, yet another police officer was doing battle with a vampire. And losing. He fired a shot from one of the small guns. The bullet entered the vampire’s shoulder. A wasted shot.

  Sorin leaped in, wrapped his arm around the vampire’s neck, and neatly separated it from the body.

  A body covered with the blood of humans.

  The policeman watched the vampire all but disappear, leaving nothing but ashes. He took a deep breath, then thanked Sorin. “Where did you come from?” he added, his voice tired and more than a little suspicious. “You’re not… one of us.”

  “We will talk when this is done,” Sorin said, and then he rushed forward to join the fight that had been edging closer. Indikaiya did the same. Many humans had fallen here. In the beginning, they’d had the numbers against the vampires, but no more. The bloodsuckers were winning.

  It was a small battle, likely one of many taking place on this night. Humans battling monsters. Monsters delighting in their violence and their blood. The sidewalk and the street were littered with bodies, with blood, and with dust. There was not nearly enough dust.

  A vampire with long greasy hair and a blood-stained mouth grinned as he ran toward Indikaiya. She ducked, spun, then rose up and with a single swing of her blade took his head. Sorin was quickly engaged in a similar battle, drawing his short, heavy sword from his leather coat and taking down one of his own kind.

  Together they turned the tide. Soon the police officers and the handful of civilians who had joined them for this fight realized that the newcomers were on their side. Knowing they had help seemed to energize them.

  “Take the head or destroy the heart!” Sorin shouted. He had a voice that could be heard above the noise of battle. “Don’t waste your bullets!” He threw himself into battle as if he were fighting for his very existence.

  Soon he was truly fighting for his life. The vampire rebels who had been near victory when Indikaiya and Sorin had arrived on the scene soon realized that they were now fighting one of their own. In many cases they turned their attentions from the humans to the vampire. And to her. The humans were easy to kill. The two newcomers were a much bigger and more immediate threat. Many of the humans eased back, into shadow, some dropping to sit or lie on the ground. They were almost done in, after what was only the first of what might be many such encounters.

  Indikaiya would never ease into the shadows. She never had, not even as a human. At last, she had the chance to do what she had come to this world to do. Kill vampires. She was skilled with a sword. She knew how and where to strike, and she knew just as well how to avoid the blows of her opponents. Her movements were quick and they were deadly. Any who thought they had an advantage because they faced a woman were soon disabused of that notion.

  The tide turned. The few surviving vampires fled.

  And Indikaiya and Sorin found themselves surrounded by weary and wounded humans who were grateful but also suspicious. Those who had allowed themselves to rest rose wearily to their feet. She wondered if they would last more than a few days in this war.

  One stepped forward. His uniform was torn. Blood, his own, ran from a small but deep gash on his forehead. It had stopped bleeding, but she could see that it needed tending. Soon. But that concern was for later, as they all recovered from this fight.

  “Why would two vampires join us to fight against their own kind?” the man asked.

  Indikaiya responded hotly. “I am not a vampire!”

  “You don’t look human,” another fighter responded.

  “I am a vampire,” Sorin said. “She is not.” He looked to the east, where the sky was lightening. “I don’t have a lot of time, but I can tell you this. There are some of us who are fighting for you. With you.” He explained about the sanctuary spell falling and then being reinstated. One bloodied fighter was so relieved, he burst into tears. Sorin explained again about the few ways in which to kill a vampire, and about most of the kindred being vulnerable to sunlight — natural or artificial.

  That done, he looked to her. “We don’t have time to make it back to the house before daylight.”

  If he’d kept the powerful vehicle with the darkly tinted windows, they might easily make it back to the mansion. That was not an option. She thought of Council headquarters — a place she did not wish to see or smell again — and then, from that direction, she heard an explosion. The propane tank. Council headquarters would soon be no more. Just as well. It had been a place of true evil.

  Sorin offered her a tired smile. “I have an idea.”

  * * *

  Indikaiya needed new clothes — otherwise humans would be mistaking her for kindred again and again — and he needed to get indoors before the sun truly rose. She didn’t like it when he flew with her clutched in his arms, but at the moment it was necessary.

  Such language, from a lady.

  Normally Sorin could stand enough sunlight to get from one place to another during the day. Direct sun made him feel ill, and his powers were greatly diminished, but he could function. At the moment he was drained from the fight, and it had been too long since he’d fed. He wasn’t sure what would happen if he tried to brave the sunlight, but he didn’t want to test it. Once the sun was truly upon him, he would not be able to fly at all. In his current condition, he would hardly be able to walk.

  He didn’t have to carry Indikaiya far. They dropped down near the glass doors of an upscale department store situated among trendy cafes and boutiques on a tree-lined street. It would do. The store was large, deep, and it was unlikely that there would be even a single window in the rear of the building. They both needed rest. Sleep. They also needed to feed. Indikaiya could likely find nourishment in any of the establishments along this street. He could not, not if it remained as deserted as it was at this moment.

  Besides, he was hungry, but far from desperate.

  Indikaiya walked toward the doors with her sword raised, as if she intended to burst inside. Sorin moved past her so quickly he would be no more than a blur, and he opened the unlocked door. As he had suspected, many normal precautions had gone by the wayside.

  Indikaiya stopped, lowered her weapon, and walked inside. Behind her, the sun peeked over the horizon. The sunlight wasn’t full strength, not yet, but he’d just as soon not stand around and see how he’d react to it after he’d spent the night fighting his own kind and passing up one human after another when he was hungry and needed nourishment.

  If he fed from a soldier, a much-needed fighter, they’d be weakened. Those unable to fight had gone, or else were hiding. He could take the blood of a fighter and it might come to that, eventually, but… not yet.

  He walked down a wide aisle toward the rear of the store. Indikaiya followed. The lights above were on and the front entrance had been unlocked, but there were no humans within these walls. Hungry as he was, he would’ve smelled them immediately. Someone had left in a hurry last night, or else had been taken. The latter was most likely.

  The lights were bright, showing the fine merchandise at its best. Glass cases sparkled. Thin, well-dressed mannequins stood guard along wide aisles.

  His companion studied the racks of clothing as they walked by. Her head swiveled toward the jewelry counter, and then, with a snap, toward the shoes. Sorin smiled. Women of any age and time…

  “Will there be food here?” she asked, her thoughts closely following his own.

  “Probably.” Food for her, anyway. “If not, you are welcome to leave.”

  “But you must stay until dark.”

  “
Yes.”

  “Will you sleep?”

  “Some.”

  She took a deep breath. “You have proven yourself useful, so I will not desert you. We will sleep in shifts, one guarding the other. These are uncertain times, and even though we are not of the same world we must stick together.”

  He was surprised. He’d thought Indikaiya would be glad to leave him behind.

  She wouldn’t like it when he told her he needed to feed. He knew how to take just enough, he knew how to drink without killing. The process would still disgust her, he imagined. Too bad. Perhaps he had come down on a side of this war he had never imagined, but he was who he was. That wasn’t going to change. He’d hidden his true self for too long. He might have changed, but his reason for joining Marie in the first place had not.

  When they were well away from the windows and any hint of sunlight, he turned to her and said, “I need to feed.”

  Indikaiya did not look startled, as he’d thought she might. She simply said, “Don’t look at me.” She followed that statement with a raised hand and a pointing, accusing finger. “And don’t think you can glamour me into agreeing to offer up my throat as your dinner troth. As a Warrior, I am immune to your magic.”

  “Some women find the experience quite pleasant.”

  “I would not.”

  “How do you know unless…”

  “We are soldiers with a common enemy, that is all.” She placed a ready hand on the handle of one dagger. Judging by the intensity in her eyes, she knew he was talking about more than feeding. Warrior, Atlantean, beautiful and strong woman. Sex with her would be amazing.

  He might even let her be on top.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Rubble. Lingering smoke. Ruin. Council headquarters was gone.

  Marie’s first impulse on this morning had been to start throwing breakable things against the nearest fire-charred wall. Normally she indulged all her impulses, but on this occasion she refrained. She didn’t want the followers around her to witness even the smallest break in her self-control.

  Not that they hadn't seen her at her worst, as well as at her best.

  She’d lost too many soldiers in the past two nights. It was true, humans had greater numbers than the kindred, but that should not matter. Vampires were superior in every way. She should be winning!

  Flamethrowers. She had not expected the human army to have so many of them. The oldest among the kindred could withstand some fire, but the healing process was longer and more painful than it would be for a more ordinary wound. And the new ones, the children, they went to dust in the flame far too quickly, and with terrifying screams.

  She should be in the White House by now, lounging in the ultimate seat of power, issuing orders to humans and vampires alike. Orders which would be followed to the letter, thanks to loyalty or fear or both. Marie admitted to herself that her initial plan had been old-fashioned. There had been a time when sitting on the throne was enough, when rebellion was a matter of taking physical possession of a castle, and with it an army.

  In those days, the peasants had not been so well-armed, and they had certainly not been so damned independent and willing to fight for others of their kind. She had not taken into consideration the modern mindset, the annoying and relatively new belief that all were equal in this world. Equal? To her? No.

  The leaders of this country had gone underground. Perhaps literally, but then again, perhaps they’d been whisked away from the city altogether. She could not take the White House, not yet. It was too well guarded, by soldiers with impressive weapons — including those damned flamethrowers. Even if she made it to the front door, she couldn’t go through that door.

  Now this. Council headquarters, where she had expected to be able to set up her own command site, had burned to the ground. The damage was primarily on the first and second floor. There were certainly many rooms beneath her feet that were habitable, but dammit, she refused to hide in rubble! She needed and expected better. More. She needed and expected the best of everything, and this was far from the best.

  For now, she needed to focus on more immediate concerns. She was going to take her Potomac mansion back.

  The vampire army’s numbers had grown, through newly made children as well as older and more powerful kindred who’d flocked to her, who embraced her cause and wanted to be on the front lines. With that army she could take the Warriors, as well as any of her own kind who were foolish enough to have chosen the wrong side. She could win this, and she would. She was determined, ready to move forward.

  If she were lucky, both Sorin and the witch would still be at the mansion, and she could make things right again.

  This time, she would take the traitorous vampire’s heart and the redheaded witch’s mind. That would be much more satisfying than giving in to her earlier childish impulse and breaking a vase or a plate.

  The weakest among the soldiers who were with her on this irritating morning, the new, the babies, they would have to wait here in what remained of Council headquarters. They would have to hide below ground, in rubble and darkness, until the sun set once again.

  But she and any who were strong enough to survive a bit of sun would depart.

  Thanks to Ahron she knew where to go. Thanks to Ahron, she had a plan.

  * * *

  Impossible. There was no way! Chloe placed a hand on her stomach — her increasingly rounded stomach — and turned away from a curious Duncan, who was watching her like a hawk. They were preparing to move tonight, packing up their weapons, as well as food for the humans among them. Warriors, too. The Warriors didn’t seem to need to eat, but they liked food well enough. Junk food and beer and wine, for the most part.

  Her baby, Luca’s daughter, was growing at an alarming rate. How long before she gave birth? Days or weeks? Not months, she knew that already.

  It was near noon. Chloe felt the power of the sun in the sky in her gut, in an instinct that urged her to hide, to seek darkness. She couldn’t do that. If she was careful in her movements she could make her way to the stairs and up without being exposed to direct sunlight. She wasn’t as strong in the daytime as she was at night, and if she passed too close to a shaft of sunlight she felt a bit queasy until she moved away.

  Her weakness was the reason they were waiting for dark — or at least near full dark — before leaving this house.

  She needed to talk to another woman, and the few female Warriors in their ranks gave her a wide berth. There was one female conduit who remained in the house. She cooked, she mended torn clothing, she patched up wounded humans. Chloe didn’t dare go near her. The woman was terrified of the few vampires among them, and to be honest, Chloe still couldn’t entirely trust herself alone with a person. The smell of blood, the sound of a fast heartbeat… dinner bell.

  Nevada Sheldon, the witch among them, had tried to help when Chloe had been human. Maybe she’d be willing to help now. Chloe would still need to exercise great control, but she was certain Nevada was her best bet.

  For once, the Warrior Rurik was not standing guard at the witch’s door. Even he was busy with preparations for the move. Chloe knocked on the door, then opened it without waiting for a “come in.”

  Nevada’s back was to her, as the witch packed books into sturdy cardboard boxes. Her long red hair was caught in a braid, her clothing for today was blue jeans and a pale blue t-shirt that had seen better days. She’d lost weight, it seemed. No surprise there. And oh, she smelled so good!

  Nevada would likely not help at all if Chloe threatened to feed on her.

  “I don’t want to hear another word about this,” the girl said. “Every book goes with me. Every book, every stone, every stinky vial of powder. How can I know what I’ll…” Nevada spun around. She abruptly stopped speaking when she saw who stood there. For a long moment, she didn’t breathe. “Need,” she finally finished in a weak voice.

  Chloe held up a hand and remained where she stood, near the door and several feet away from the witch. Not
that the space would be of any hindrance if she decided to leap.

  “I won’t hurt you, I swear.”

  “Glad to hear it.” There wasn’t even a hint of confidence in Nevada’s voice.

  “I need your help.”

  Nevada’s eyes dropped to Chloe’s stomach, just as the baby moved. “Holy mother of…” the witch began, and then she sat, hard, in the chair that was thankfully nearby. “I thought I’d seen everything, but apparently not. I didn’t know vampires could… is that a… no, that can’t be.”

  “I’m pregnant,” Chloe said bluntly. She could use a chair herself, but didn’t dare move any closer to Nevada. She didn’t want to spook the girl. Everyone, Nevada included, knew how unpredictable a newborn vampire could be. “I was apparently pregnant before I was turned, and now the child is growing too fast. What’s going to happen to me? To her?”

  As Chloe watched, she saw Nevada’s fear turn to amazement, and then to curiosity. The witch stood slowly, her eyes never leaving Chloe’s midsection. “I’ll need to do some research, and dammit, my books are almost all packed. If I start unpacking they’ll rush me out of here and leave some behind.”

  “We have a few hours.”

  “You have a few hours. They’ll be moving me soon. Some Warriors and humans will start the exodus this afternoon. The vampires have to wait until dark, but…”

  “But you don’t,” Chloe finished, when the girl floundered.

  “No, I don’t.” She cocked her head and studied Chloe. “Our world has changed. Do you ever stop to think how much?”

  Chloe found herself smiling wanly. “If I did, I think I would go crazy.” A mad vampire. She doubted she’d be the first, or the last.

  If she were inclined to fall in that direction, to dip toward madness, Luca would pull her out of it. Luca, who was so strong and who loved her so much, he would not allow her to go mad. If anyone could will sanity, it would be him.

  “I didn’t want to be a vampire, you know,” Chloe confided. “There was a time when I made Luca promise that he would never turn me. But when I was dying, when my choice was to become like him or leave him, I found it was no choice at all.” She lifted her chin. “I am not a monster. I’m still Chloe Fallon.” A Chloe Fallon without the threat of an aortic aneurysm going off like a bomb in her chest, without the fear of growing old, or getting sick. No, she had entirely new fears now.