Human Revolt 02 - Vampire LA

by Phil Tucker

  “What? You do? Tell me!”

  “You, young lady, are on a need-to-know basis.”

  She sat up, mouth open in pretend outrage. Snatched up the pillow and walloped him with it. “Tell me!”

  He laughed and tugged the pillow from her hands. She fought back, and they wrestled back and forth, laughing and yelling until Selah fell off the side of the bed and pulled Cloud over the edge after her. They fell to the ground in a mess of sheets and pillows, and then lay there, holding each other as they laughed breathlessly.

  “Fine! Fine, I’ll tell you.” Cloud leaned over and kissed her, and then pulled back. His smile was infectious. “I thought we could start a company. An organization. I’ve got a lot of connections, people like Chico, on the ground everywhere. According to Fernanda, you’ve become a symbol for the revolution, or at least for everybody who still hates the vampires. You can become our spokesperson, tell everybody about what’s going on in the cities. About the corruption we’re seeing, the agenda behind Plessy’s plan. We stand up and broadcast the message to the world, and keep on fighting.”

  Selah looked up at him. “You think that would work? People would listen to us? To me?”

  “Sure. Fernanda said that there are entire sites dedicated to learning more about you. From that first recording you made in Magnum to your appearance in the Freedom Fight. Everybody thinks you killed Sawiskera—which you did—and then disappeared like some mystery hero into the night. And imagine if General Adams is right—imagine they’re able to make a vaccine from your blood. Just like that, the whole world would change. You’d become more than famous. You’d be like Marianne, the symbol of the French Revolution.”

  “Revolution?”

  Cloud reclined, arms crossed behind his head. “Yeah. We don’t have the leadership for it anymore. President Lynnfield is just focused on surviving. Who knows when he’ll even lift martial law and allow Congress and the Senate to get back together? Way I see it, Plessy’s going to get his way. Before too long, there will be new laws in the works, and ten years from now? The walls around the vampire cities will come down. We can’t let that happen. The people have to rise up and force the government’s hand.”

  Selah looked up at the ceiling. Played Cloud’s words over in her mind. “But we can’t break the Treaty. We can’t fight the vampires. They’d just kill all the top people again.”

  “Yeah. But we can make sure they don’t gain any ground socially. Make sure people stay clear on what they are: monsters.”

  Selah nodded. Monsters. She thought of Theo the night before. His cutting words, his mockery. Monsters. “OK. I’m in.” She rolled toward Cloud, rested her chin on his shoulder. “But you have to do whatever I say. I’m the CEO.”

  “CEO? What? You’re the figurehead, lady. I’m the brains behind the beauty.”

  “Brains? You?” She grinned and dug her fingers into his side. He laughed and squirmed away, batting at her hands as she chased him. Then he stopped trying to escape, and caught her instead, kissed her, and moved his hands over her body, and they stopped speaking altogether once more.

  Chapter Twelve

  Selah took a deep breath and stepped into the French living room. It was almost exactly as before—a score of men and women with impossible grace and liquid-black eyes lounged around its perimeter while Louis himself reclined on a chaise longue, ankles crossed, stockings visible up to his knees where his antique-styled pants began. He wore a brocade jacket of powder blue, a white wig elegant on his head, trading his own caramel hair for an ostentatious display of ivory curls.

  “Selah!” His exclamation was one of delight, cutting through the murmurs. “Finally. Come, join me here.” He patted a narrow space by his side, a seat that would force them into a position of unwelcome intimacy. Selah crossed the living room, leaving Cloud to stand by himself once more at the door.

  “Selah, cherie, it is good to see you. And your eyes? Ah, as dark and fraught with sin as my own. Which means you still wish to exchange your services for my knowledge? Good.”

  Selah stood before him. She felt immune to his tone, to the light playing in his eyes. Louis was only a source of information, and nothing more. There was no point in dealing with him as one would a true person.

  “Well, I see you are not in a mood to ‘chitchat’, as they say. A pity. One must pass the endless nights with conversation, lest the hours drive you mad. Conversation, or blood, to be honest—nothing dispels boredom as much as the hunt, the sweet tang of fresh human blood on the tongue, the manner that it slides down your throat to pool and coagulate in your gut, so that you feel as if you carry gold in your core, a molten puddle of it, from which you draw energy and life and joy and—” He stopped. Selah was staring past him, at the wall. “No matter. To business! You will not sit? No?”

  Selah waited. Arms crossed, jaw set.

  “As you will. Let us proceed. I shall tell you the means to cure yourself of your affliction, if you engage to accomplish the task I shall set before you tonight. A simple transaction, witnessed here by all. Have no fear of my reneging; my word is my bond.”

  “I have no fear of that,” said Selah. “I have Sawiskera’s blood in me. His power. If you break your promise, or if your cure doesn’t work, I will find you.” She looked down at him. “And kill you. Don’t doubt it.”

  “What etiquette! What courtly manners. Still, I understand your point, and have no doubt as to your ability to effect it. Even if you are but a pale shadow—apologies, a dusky shadow—of Sawiskera, we all understand what might you yet wield. And are so intent on giving up! What a waste. What a tragic waste, to see such power so quickly tossed aside, as a child might discard—”

  “Louis. Enough. What do you want me to do?”

  Louis shut his mouth and drew back, his pale face growing pinched with displeasure. He was clearly not accustomed to being interrupted. He examined his nails in a petty show of making her wait, and then said idly, as if it were no great thing, “I need you to kill a man for me.”

  “What?”

  “Kill a man, sever the thread of his life. Snip snip! Accomplish that, and I shall tell you all.”

  “Murder somebody? Who? Why don’t you do it yourself?”

  Louis shrugged, continued to look at his nails. “He is a man of no account, a drug dealer, a crook, a moral degenerate. If there were true justice in the world, this scoundrel would be sentenced to death. As such, his power insulates him, and he walks free, fouling the earth with his wicked ways. I need you to kill him tonight. Do so, and you will be saved.”

  “Murder? I can’t.” Selah shook her head. Self-defense, maybe. But to hunt a man down in cold blood and kill him?

  “Think carefully before saying no. What I tell you is true. He is the agent behind most of the Blood Dust trade. It is by his say-so that Dust has spread throughout the country. Does that not make his life worthless? I’m sure it does. A pig! Despicable. I would spit, but it’s such a nice carpet.”

  Selah glanced back at Cloud. He was close enough to hear, and he shook his head. She looked to Louis, her mind in torment. “Who is he?”

  “His name is John Caldwell. Tonight he enters the Core under what he thinks is the cloak of secrecy. His goal is to strike a deal that shall leave him even richer than he currently is, and pick up an egregious load of Blood Dust. This he means to transport out of the Core to distribute to all and sundry. Awful, is it not? If you kill him, the deal falls apart. His network collapses. The Blood Dust will remain trapped in the Core, and countless millions shall not be tempted by its allure.”

  Caldwell. The Colonel. Louis smiled up at her. She took a step back. Murder. Could she do it? No. There had to be another way. Without responding, without dignifying his request with an answer, she shook her head once more and strode across the room. Cloud pushed open the door, and together they hurried out into the hall. Not thinking, not wanting to think, she rushed downstairs and out the back door. The view was magnificent, a long sweeping lawn and a li
ne of trees beyond. Selah saw none of it. She strode to the railing and stood, shivering.

  “We’ll find somebody else,” said Cloud. “He said himself there are another two vampires in the Core that know the answer. We’ll find them. There’s time.”

  Selah clutched her head. She fought to summon her emotions, to feel some sense of outrage, to prick her conscience. It felt like pulling at wisps of cloud. Under the night sky, Sawiskera’s influence was undeniable. Selah looked deep within herself. Did the life of one drug dealer truly count? Mama B had always told her: life isn’t fair. Well, maybe it cut both ways. If it wasn’t fair for her, maybe it didn’t have to be fair for others.

  “Selah? What do you think? If we hurry, if we go now, maybe we can find someone else.”

  “And what would they ask for, do you think?” Her voice was leaden. “None of them will do it for free. None of them care about me. They’ll just put me to their own uses. If we can even find one of them in time. I’ve got, what? Two more nights left, something like that?” She felt a heavy weight drape itself over her shoulders.

  “You can’t give up. You can’t. We have to try.” He took hold of her shoulder and turned her around to face him. “We’ll find another way.”

  Selah closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. She shook her head. “It’s Louis or death. I don’t have the time to find another vampire, to convince him to tell me what I need to know, and risk them asking me to do something worse than kill a drug dealer.”

  “How do you—you don’t even know he’s a drug dealer. You don’t have anything but Louis’ word on this. He could be lying to you.”

  Selah dropped her hands. “Caldwell, Cloud. Colonel Caldwell. The man my father was investigating. The guy Chico said ran the local army base. Even Chico thought he was probably in on the Dust dealing. Caldwell must deal with another vampire gang. Arachne’s, maybe. Louis’ probably just looking to remove a rival. And if he is distributing drugs to the rest of the country—if he is—I can at least go check it out.”

  “Selah, no.” Cloud voice was firm. “This isn’t you speaking. This is the blood, Sawiskera.”

  “Maybe. Does it matter? I have to do something. I either kill myself now, and we lose the vaccine forever, or I kill this drug dealer. Which would you prefer?” Selah looked up into Cloud’s eyes. “Is this dealer’s life worth more than the chance of vaccinating every person on the planet?”

  “This isn’t how it works,” said Cloud. “You can’t just kill people. You can’t. If he’s a dealer, he needs to be revealed, arrested, tried in court.”

  “Oh, Cloud.” She tried to smile. “We’re past that now. We’re in the Core. There are no laws here. No right or wrong. There’s only survival.”

  “No.” Cloud shook his head emphatically. “Listen to yourself. No right or wrong?”

  “I mean, there is only the justice we make. If this guy is really dealing so much Blood Dust, then maybe he needs to be stopped.”

  Cloud clutched his head as if growing dizzy. “But you don’t even know for sure if he’s a dealer!”

  “I can check. When I get there. If he really is at a drug deal, if I see evidence that what Louis is saying is true. Blood Dust. Money. Him leading the transaction. If it’s true, then—then I’ll make a decision.”

  “God. Selah, please. Let’s try. Just one night. One night to find another way.” Cloud stepped forward and took her by the arms. “Please. For me. For yourself.”

  She looked up at him and smiled, her heart breaking, but doing so from a distance, muffled as if draped with black silk. It all seemed too clinical to her. So cut and dried. It was a bad thing she was about to do, but relatively speaking, she was going to do a good thing as well. “I’m sorry, Cloud. I can’t risk it.”

  Cloud dropped his hands. “Selah.”

  She reached out and placed her palm on his chest. “I love you, Cloud.” She felt nothing as she said those words. “I’ll be back.”

  Selah stepped past him and entered the building once more. She needed to learn Caldwell’s location. As she climbed the stairs, another thought came to her. She had a curse boiling her blood. An impossible might that made even the vampires respect her. Why should she do Louis’ bidding? Why should she bend, kneel, and act the slave? She could take. She could force. She could break him down until he told her all she wanted.

  Selah paused halfway up the flight of marble stairs. Yes. There was no need to kill a human. She could force the vampire. And in so doing retain a semblance of her own humanity. Selah smiled, felt the expression cross her face, wicked and slow. She crouched down, poised on the middle step, and looked up the remaining ten. Flexed her thighs and leaped, rushing through the air to land at the top. Landed as lightly as a feather, and then laughing, stepped forward into a pirouette that would have done a ballerina proud. If only Cloud had been there to see it. She would dance for him, she decided. Before this was all over, they would dance.

  Selah moved down the hall, through the galleries, and came to the door that led back to the living room. Stepped inside. The vampires lounged, dissolute, bored. She looked at them with mixed disgust and disdain, and curled her lips into a sweet smile.

  “Don’t you do anything interesting with your eternities?” Her words cut through the conversation, and ten pairs of soulless eyes trained on her. She met their eyes with ease, her smile defying them. “Is this the allure of immortality? Count me unimpressed.” She looked across the room at where Louis sat with Fernanda. The young human female was looking right at her, eyes wide. Selah blew her a kiss, and turned her attention to the vampire lord. “Louis. Come. We need to talk.” She turned and walked out. Let him eat on that.

  Out and down the hall. He would come. She knew it. Would follow her, licking at her heels like a puppy. Why did she never feel this good during the day? Had she ever felt this good before Sawiskera contaminated her? If only there were a way to preserve this power, yet not lose her soul. Ah, now that would be a delight worth pursuing.

  She heard Louis behind her. Nobody else could have. His footsteps were as light as the fall of dust, as inaudible as the sigh of a statue. Yet her ears detected him. She walked on, down the hall, and into a large gallery. Here they would play out their drama.

  Selah turned and walked backwards a few steps. Louis glided into view, face blank, eyes glittering like the cosmos. His face was grave, his chin lowered. Yet there was amusement at the corner of his lips. Let him smile. He wouldn’t smile for much longer.

  “Your decision, Selah?” His voice. That faint hint of a French accent. Was it real, or affected? Who cared.

  “You will tell me what I want to know. How do I cure myself?”

  “First you must kill Caldwell. Such are the rules.”

  “And if, dear Louis, I choose to break them?” She approached him. Saw him grow tense. “If I choose instead to be rude and force you to say what I need to know, here, now?” She paused before him, placed her hand on the lapel of his antique coat. Rubbed at the felt, the scratchy texture of it. Ran her hand slowly, sensuously down his chest. Looked up at him. Smiled.

  He returned the smile. “It would not fare well for you, I fear.”

  “No? What of Sawiskera’s blood? His ancient curse? The power of the Eldest flows within me. I could bend you to my will. Break you. Make you plead, beg for mercy. Do you want that? To force me to hurt you?” She ran her hand back up his chest, and down the length of his ivory jaw. He didn’t move. “Would that excite you? Break the boredom?”

  “It would. It would indeed. Come then. Let us dance.” He struck out at her. Put his whole body behind the blow, so that he turned to present her with his profile, right first moving directly at her throat. Selah saw it coming. She stepped to one side, leaning back, and felt the cuff of his jacket scratch over the skin of her throat. She laughed, and felt that ancient power course through her. Let there be some use for it. If she must be damned, then let her enjoy her damnation and make this devil pay.


  Selah twisted and lashed out with her own fist, going to scratch his eyes out, rake her nails across his face. She put everything she had into the blow, whiplashing her arm out and across from the hip, hard and fast enough to tear a channel through a column of marble.

  Louis caught her hand by the wrist, and stopped her cold. His grip was not iron, it was worse, it crushed her bones, ground them against each other, grated her nerves so that the pain was beyond belief. Refusing to scream, Selah punched at his face with her other hand. Louis went to catch that, and missed.

  The sheer strength of her blow broke his left cheekbone. Shattered it and crushed his ocular ridge as well. His head snapped back, but only an inch. The damage was tremendous. She had nearly caved in the right side of his face. She laughed, and drew her fist back to punch once more. A second time was all she needed.

  Even with only one eye, he caught her second blow. Caught her fist full in the palm of his hand. Bent her fist back so that the pressure on her wrist nearly snapped it. Selah let out a scream of fury. There was pain, but it was a distant thing. This was a bestial cry of frustration. How dare he? But the pain grew, grew as he forced her hand back. She tried to lash out a kick, but dropped hard instead to one knee as he put all his might into breaking her wrist.

  “There,” he said, and his voice was harsh, completely unlike the cultured one he’d used until now. It was the sound a beast might make, hoarse and rough, clotted and rank. “How does that suit, Miss Selah Brown? A little more?”

  Selah’s scream turned from rage to agony. Her wrist was at the breaking point. Her other arm, the first he had caught, was almost mangled from his grip, her fingers past spasming.

  “You are powerful. Oh, yes. But so am I. In another night, maybe two, you will be too much for even one of my age. Too much, Selah, but not yet. There is still too much human blood diluting your strength.” He leaned forward. Into her. Selah sucked in a deep breath, the gallery spinning away from her as the pain gave her tunnel vision.