by April White
“Your room.” I whispered, barely making a sound. It didn’t seem like they’d discovered his absence yet, but I felt it was only a matter of minutes before the search was on.
Will looked around to get his bearings. I remembered that the hall he’d been carried down was beyond us and I started toward it at the same moment he did. His hand touched my shoulder. “Wait,” he whispered hoarsely. “Let me go first.” I stepped back and held out my flashlight to him. He shook his head. “It’s better if we don’t use it. You can hold my shirt if you need to.”
I flipped off the Maglite and waited a moment for my eyes to adjust. Will was right, it actually was better because without the light, there were no shadows for things to lurk in. My night vision was good enough to see shapes in the passage using just the light seepage from above and I thought, judging by his confidence as he moved, Will’s was even better.
We reached the door to the room where he’d been held and I suddenly felt a massive sense of déjà vu as Will silently inched the door open. There was my mother, lying strapped to the table, with a blood-bag attached to her arm.
It was exactly what I’d seen in my dream.
I flicked the Maglite on involuntarily and it lit up my mother’s face. That was a mistake. She looked dead, or at least as dead as someone can be and still have a pulse, which was what Will was checking.
“Turn it off!” His voice came out in a growl and for the first time I wondered if he was actually the beast everyone said he was. I shut off the light and shoved it in my pocket.
My voice caught the edge of tears that suddenly threatened to spill over. “Sorry.”
Will’s voice was as gentle as a growl can possibly be. “She lives. But not much longer without help. Can you shine your torch away from me, in the corner, so I can find something to bind her wound?
The room was completely devoid of supplies, but I had 25-year-old linen bandages and chloroform in my bag from my catacombs stash. Will dismissed the chloroform, but within a couple of minutes he had the needle out and a bandage around her arm. I caught sight of the inside of her elbow and was shocked at how bruised and battered it looked. My mom looked like a junkie from the streets with her torn and dirty shift, matted hair, and bare feet.
Will scooped her up into his arms and nodded at me. “You lead this time. You can keep the light on.” I did, careful to shine it away from our eyes. We were moving toward the tunnel and I think we both wanted to see what trouble we might be heading into.
The main cellar was still empty, but from the echoes above us, it was clear there was a major commotion going on upstairs. I immediately went over to the tunnel door and turned the handle. It was locked and Ringo had my key. I wished I’d kept it with me, but we both assumed Ringo and Archer would have been here first. I suddenly missed them both like crazy. They had somehow become my ‘new normal,’ despite living in a world that hadn’t invented computers yet, much less antibiotics or airplanes or even cars.
Will came in behind me, carrying my mom like she was a sleeping baby in his arms. Except her head lolled around on her neck like she was made of stuffing instead of flesh and bones and her arms and legs were completely limp. I’d never seen a living person look so pale, and I could only hope, with every fiber of my being, that she hadn’t been turned into a Vampire. “Help me.” Will indicated stacks of folded blankets in a corner. I pulled some out and made sort of a nest for him to lay my mom down on, then I covered her with two more until only her face and head were visible. There were deep purple rings under her eyes, and her thick, auburn-colored hair was a dull-brown tangle. The only proof that she was more than a corpse was the weak flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was like a clock that was winding down to a stop.
And yet, I had to keep reminding myself this was my mother lying in front of me; the woman who had been my only family until a month ago. After all these weeks of waiting and searching for her, of missing her and feeling angry and betrayed and lost, I now had the detached feeling of looking down at a stranger. Honestly, I felt more connected to Will Shaw in that moment with all his growling and gruffness, and it terrified me.
“We have to find a way out.” He had already tried the tunnel door, but I nodded toward it.
“My friends will come that way. They have a key.”
Will’s expression darkened. “That’s how Wilder and his thug have gotten in.”
I sat down on a crate that was stacked against the wall and looked up at Will. He was quietly pacing around the cellar, presumably looking for another way out. “Why does he want your blood? And hers?” I was near enough to touch my mother, but I didn’t. I was afraid to.
Will shook his head. “I don’t know. The bleeding only began a couple of weeks ago. They could never really keep me long enough to get much, but they’ve had her here off and on for days at a time.” He knelt down and checked her pulse again. It must have still been there because he stood up and resumed his pacing.
“Are you certain your friends will come?”
“They should be here any minute.” Or at least I knew Ringo would come. I only hoped Archer would be well enough to.
My impression of Will Shaw as a large, predatory cat was reinforced as I watched him move around the cellar. On his next pass I handed him my Maglite, which he took without a word before slipping down darkened passages off the main chamber.
My braid was itchy down the back of my sweater so I pulled it out and unbound it so I could scratch my head. I hoped the itchiness was just from being dirty, and not from something crawling in it, the very thought of which made me want to run screaming for the future. I had just finished combing through the mass of hair and started re-braiding it when Will returned.
He looked at me for a long moment and I tried not to feel self-conscious. “You look just like your mother.”
I looked over at her and involuntarily winced.
“As she looked at your age.”
That surprised me. “You knew her then?”
He smiled the kind of smile that heats up the space around it, the kind that comes from a secret place inside a person where the best things get hidden away. “I fell in love with her when we were fifteen.”
My fingers fumbled with the braid, but finishing the task gave me something to concentrate on while my brain spun in my head.
I finally looked back up at Will and the look of tenderness in his eyes was the answer to the question I hadn’t asked.
“Who are you, Will Shaw?” My voice was the smallest whisper because the answer I expected was the biggest one of my life.
“I’m your father, Saira Elian.”
Blood
I’ve always said I have big feet so I don’t blow over in a stiff wind. Well, they didn’t help. My butt was planted on a box, both feet were on the ground, and I still hit the floor.
Will was next to me in an instant, pulling me back up to something resembling a seated position. His hands were strong but his grip was gentle, like he was afraid I could break. I suppose with that kind of reaction, I probably was a little more fragile than usual.
“You and my mom…?”
I couldn’t even finish the thought. Everything was off balance, like someone put the wrong prescription in a pair of glasses and I was getting woozy just looking out through my own eyeballs.
“I love your mother like I’ve never loved another soul on earth. I love her beyond what’s possible to measure and have given up everything I’ve ever known for her… and for you.”
Wow. And said with so much conviction there wasn’t a doubt in my mind it was completely true. I sat still for a moment, silently catching my breath, watching him with the same intensity he watched me.
“Why did you kill the council?”
He shook his head. “I needed them alive. They were going to rule in our favor until Rothchild let the Weres in.” He knelt in front of me, his arms supporting me on the box so I didn’t go keeling over agai
n. “The Weres slaughtered Lisette, Melinda, and my father. I had to shift to defend myself, and their own blood lust finished off the ones I wounded.” He took a deep breath. “But Rothchild had a knife to Claire’s throat. He would have killed you both. It’s what he intended from the beginning with the whole council.... But I couldn’t let him take everything from me. They found me standing over him and assumed I had slaughtered them all. But before they could bind me, I found Melinda’s necklace so Claire could escape.”
Not content to just spin my entire world upside down he had to make me dizzy too. He smiled at me with real warmth in his eyes. “Thank you for coming to visit me all these years. Our conversations through that damned vent have sustained me when I thought I’d go mad.” And then he finally realized how that must have sounded to me. “But I suppose this is the first time we’ve properly met.”
Will’s gaze was steady and unblinking, and I suddenly got that he knew me. He knew me, and he loved me. In that instant I realized I had a dad. And then, more than anything in the world, I wanted to put my arms around his neck and hug him.
But I’ve never hugged a dad before and it was completely new territory. So I hesitated. And it was the worst mistake I’ve ever made. Because a key turned in the lock to the tunnel door. And we both stood up to face whatever was coming. And the moment was lost.
Ringo stumbled through the door, his face bloody, holding his arm in pain. I almost ran to him but he caught my eye and shook his head quickly before he tripped and went down.
And then Jack the Ripper sauntered in half-dragging, half-carrying a very pale and bloody Archer. Whatever color was left in my face drained on the spot and despite the fact that my flight instinct was in full gear, I was completely rooted to the floor.
Was it possible the Ripper was a Vampire? He just didn’t have the ‘look,’ whatever the thing was that happened when a body’s cells stopped multiplying. The Ripper looked red-faced and sweaty and pissed off at having to drag Archer’s heavy body down the long tunnel, presumably from the chapel.
My first instinct was to hide my mother’s unconscious body and I dropped to the ground to shield her from view. And then my dad launched himself at the tunnel door and something blurred past him, moving with inhuman speed. I couldn’t get a clear view to see who else had come in, but when I heard the voice, I knew.
“Will Shaw. What a surprise.” Bishop Wilder did not at all sound pleased to see him. I turned to face him and the motion attracted his gaze, and now Bishop Wilder had me in his sights.
“Now this is a pleasant surprise. The offspring of my two favorite donors, and a proper mongrel herself.”
Will growled fiercely. “Watch your mouth, Sucker!” Will’s voice had gone from tender dad to growling beast in an instant. I suddenly understood Jekyll and Hyde a whole lot better.
“Actually, I’ve finished with the pure-bloods. It’s time to uncover the properties of your little mix.” He swooped down to grab me so fast I was off my feet before I even realized he was in motion.
And then I got who the Vampire was.
Oh. Crap.
Bishop Wilder held me with a strength that could break the bones in both my arms. And when I looked into his face I saw the same ultra-smooth, alabaster skin that Archer would have. Oh God, I hoped it hadn’t happened yet. He seemed to hang limp from The Ripper’s slack grasp and I desperately hoped the bishop hadn’t infected him. All of this flashed through my mind in an instant, and then everything went into slow motion.
Will lunged for the bishop and slammed into him with a force that almost took me out. The suddenness of the attack startled the bishop and he let go of one arm to defend himself. I tore myself out of his other hand and felt like I left a chunk of my arm in his grip.
Archer’s muscles coiled and he wrenched himself from the Ripper’s grasp. He grabbed for me and pulled me away. “Give me your knife.” Archer’s voice was barely a breath in my ear, but I understood immediately. Sanda’s little knife was in his hands in an instant.
My father and the bishop were circling each other warily, like wrestlers in a ring. Archer had backed me up against a wall and was shielding me with his body as he watched the two men. Everyone was waiting for their chance to strike, and the air shimmered with deadliness.
The bishop taunted Will as they circled each other. “I have tasted your blood, Shifter. I have your strength and speed now.”
I could see startled shock in my dad’s eyes, and then they narrowed. “It’s not possible. You can’t become the thing you ingest.”
“Ah, but I follow different rules than mere mortals. In fact, there are no rules for my kind. I drink your blood and I feel your power. And hers. And soon I’ll have the girl’s as well.”
Archer was practically spring-loaded, he was so tense, and his gaze never wavered from the bishop as he circled my father. Ringo was still down, but I could see him inching toward me and Archer. His gaze darted around the room warily, but I was the only one who noticed.
Jack the Ripper was a few yards away from my mother, still tucked in her blanket nest against the opposite wall from me. His eyes found her and a slow, nasty smile spread across his face. The look he gave her was feral and hungry, like he’d been anticipating this for a very long time. He actually licked his lips. I saw him draw a wicked-looking knife at the same moment Ringo did, but Ringo got there first. The surprise attack sent the knife into the air and Ringo to his knees. Enraged, the Ripper swung his powerful fists at Ringo and knocked him about five feet backwards. The back of Ringo’s head hit the floor with a sickening thud and he didn’t move. Jack the Ripper had killed my friend. I was sure of it.
Bishop Wilder made a move. He grabbed a piece of iron pipe and swung it at Will before he could leap out of range. The pipe knocked him off balance and he went down. I shrieked reflexively as the bishop stepped forward, raising the pipe over his head to brain Will.
But Archer saw his chance and lunged at the bishop. He stabbed with my little knife and must have caught him in the side because the pipe fell from his hands with a clatter and he spun on Archer, his fist automatically connecting with the side of Archer’s head and sending him reeling back. The bishop roared with anger as he grabbed his student and pulled him into his arms. “You dare attack me! I should have killed you long ago.”
Archer was trapped in the bishop’s grip, and for the first time I actually saw the glint of fangs. Blood was leaking down Archer’s face and the bishop practically tasted the air for the scent. He drew Archer to him. Fangs shone from beneath the snarling lips. I grabbed the fallen pipe and rushed forward just as the Vampire’s mouth descended to Archer’s neck.
The air blurred.
And was full of fur. And fangs. And claws. And teeth.
A huge cat, like a Mountain Lion or a Puma slammed into the bishop and Archer. I was knocked backwards from the force of the impact as the Lion tore into the bishop’s arm. And suddenly Archer was free. He crumbled to a heap on the floor and I ran to him. His eyes were open and staring. Blood poured from a fresh wound in his neck. I crawled to Archer and shielded him with my body from the fierce attack of Lion and man above us.
But the bishop was not a man. He was a Vampire.
And the Lion was not an animal. He was my father.
The air was filled with snarls and grunts and shrieks and then I realized I heard a new sound. Of groans. Of brick and mortar columns being slammed into with superhuman force.
My arms were wrapped so tightly around Archer’s neck I think they stopped the hemorrhaging. He wasn’t moving though. And I couldn’t see a pulse.
A flash of movement caught the corner of my eye and I saw myself in Jack the Ripper’s sights. The depth of evil in those eyes was truly terrifying, and my Monger flight instinct was only quelled by the dying man in my arms.
And then suddenly his eyes opened wide in surprise. He stopped moving and blood bubbled from his lips before he fell, his own wicked-looking knife stuck in his back. And the look on Ring
o’s face, standing behind him, was pure shock. He had just killed Jack the Ripper.
Ringo turned his eyes to the battle raging at the other end of the room. The Lion had drawn the bishop away from us and they were like a hurricane of teeth and claws and fangs. The last of his strength deserted him entirely and he stumbled to me, dread in his eyes as he looked at Archer, dying in my arms.
“What can I do?”
I didn’t want to let go of Archer. I needed to hold him and keep him alive. But there was a kind of power beginning to surge inside me. I’d felt it start to grow from the moment I knew I had to fix all the things I’d broken. When I took responsibility for the people I’d damaged with my carelessness. That power wouldn’t let me just save the man in my arms. I had to save us all.
“Hold him for me. Keep him alive.” My voice was barely a voice anymore and the words came out half-formed. Ringo understood what I needed and he sank to his knees beside us. He pulled Archer off my lap and pressed down on the wound in his neck to free me. I picked up the piece of pipe and surveyed the room.
The battlers were destroying everything around them. They’d rammed each other into the columns behind them so fiercely that brick dust was falling from the ceiling.
I ran toward them, oblivious to the sound of Ringo yelling my name, or the blur of battle that raged in front of me. I knew where I was going, and it was up. I rebounded off the cellar wall, to the top of a dresser, and up to the huge metal water pipes that spanned overhead. I crawled along the biggest pipe until I was just over the fighters. The Lion sprang for the bishop again, but slammed into the column next to me as the bishop spun away. More brick dust fell and I saw the fissures in it widen.
Suddenly, the room was quiet except for the groans and shrieks of the battered room. Bishop Wilder stood below me, panting and bloody, barely recognizable as a man, over the human form of Will Shaw who lay dying on the ground at his feet. Brick dust rained all around us and the last thing I saw of my father were his eyes, looking straight at me, with more love in them than I thought it was possible to contain. “Do it,” he whispered up to me. I couldn’t hear the words but I felt them in my soul. And I knew what I had to do.