by Unknown
“I’d better get back to work,” I told her, ignoring the question. As I pushed my chair back, I suddenly realised how I was acting, and that Corvi wouldn’t have wanted me to work myself into oblivion.
I took a deep breath, then pitched my next question just loud enough for others to hear, but not so much that it seemed deliberate.
“Lev, you’re right. I do need to talk about it. Could you come and see me later, about eight?”
Lev smiled at me, and nodded.
“Sure thing, boss. Shall I bring Kalin, as well?”
“Please. It makes sense to talk to the two people who know me best. I’ll see you later.”
Although I would have wanted Tis with me as well, I didn’t want to interrupt her training schedule. My two closest friends would have to do.
As promised, they both arrived at Corvi’s room at eight that night, and once again we drank a toast to my wife’s memory. This time, however, I held nothing back. I spoke to them at length about how I was feeling, I cried repeatedly until my eyes felt raw, and they offered what comfort they could.
Apparently, Kalin had punched one of the other vampires on the base because they had made some kind of derogatory remark about how it was dangerous to get too close to me. That same vampire had made no such remarks since, especially when Kalin had launched into a massive tirade about how my actions deserved respect - as a mortal, I had sworn myself to a vampire lover with no concern for the consequences, taken her as my wife and stood by her as she had to betray me in order to save my life.
“I was there at your wedding,” he told me. “I refuse to let anyone suggest that your feelings for Corvina were anything less than honest and pure.”
We talked for the whole night, so much so that we finished the bottle of 1880 whiskey and opened a bottle of a 1906 American bourbon straight afterwards.
I went to bed that night feeling...emotionally raw, I suppose. I had been grieving for a week, spent a whole night with my two closest friends grieving and remembering Corvi, and yet it still didn’t seem enough. Sleep was almost non-existent most nights, as I had grown used to feeling her beside me, the comfort of having her in my arms. Instead I spent time looking at the photograph that Lorelei had taken, talking to the raven hair clasp as if it were Corvi herself.
Even now, I miss her. She would have been so proud of what we all achieved in the end.
The following day, I resolved to at least look after myself a bit better. I started the day off with a proper breakfast, which I topped off with a glass of blood for actual sustenance.
After that, I had numerous meetings with the command staff, and a video conference with the other base commanders who were meant to be joining the insurrection. They still seemed doubtful of my ability to lead, and frankly I was too, but I had to finish Corvi’s work. It was my duty.
I sent off a group of Sentinels, including Lev sadly, to several of the hunter bases Lorelei had found details for. They were tasked with getting information on enemy strength at those locations, in preparation for our own attacks. Lev was certainly not happy about being sent away, but I told her that I was a big boy now and could look after myself.
Aside from that, I spent a lot of the day preparing for my unannounced visit to the Countess. She was certainly going to be...unhappy, and she was not someone you pissed off intentionally.
And yet, I intended to do just that.
I was already waiting on the landing platform when the cargo flight came in, clenching my fists against the biting wind. I was dressed for a fight, because there was no telling how Sharriana’s guards would react. I wore my standard combat suit, over which I also wore a deep red leather trench-coat. I’d found some black leather gloves as well, which provided a little extra protection for my hands, at least from the elements if nothing else. Corvi’s raven hair clasp was pinned on the left side of the coat, worn as proudly as a medal.
Black Terror, my sword, hung at my left hip as usual. For the first time though, I also carried Crimson Raven, slung over my back with the hilt in easy reach of my left hand. I had a USP at my right hip as further precaution, but as a vampire much of my fighting would now be up close.
As the few items of return cargo were being loaded onto the aircraft, I started walking towards the open loading ramp, only to be stopped by the deck officer.
“Sorry sir, this is a cargo flight only,” he told me, gesturing with his clipboard. “No passengers are being taken I’m afraid.”
I motioned for him to show me the inventory, then pointed to something in particular.
“’SLC, One Item’,” I read. “Self-Loading Cargo. That’s me.”
The deck officer suddenly seemed unsure. I could understand why - it was hardly an orthodox use of our flights.
“I...I still don’t think I can let you on, sir,” he said shakily, and I moved closer to him.
I wasn’t going to harm or threaten him, just for doing his job, but I needed to be on that flight.
“You know who I am?” It wasn’t phrased in the way indignant celebrities or officials would use it. It was simply a question.
“Y-yes, sir, I do, but-”
“Then you know what I have suffered. What the staff at this base have suffered. We all deserve to know why we are being manipulated, and I intend to find out. That is why I need to be on this flight.”
I patted the man’s shoulder reassuringly, and left him to make his mind up.
There was only the slightest hesitation before he raised his pen and checked off the relevant item, giving me a small salute as I moved towards the aircraft again.
I used the relatively short flight to practice my telekinesis, because that could be an extremely useful tool in any situation.
Without the fuel of my rage, it was difficult to find either the focus or the mental strength, and I repeatedly found myself wiping blood from my nose as the attempts set off my annoying condition.
Eventually I focussed on my pain and anger at Corvi’s death, using that emotion and controlling it, instead of letting it consume me. The force I could wield using that focus was mildly frightening - especially since I almost ruptured the fuselage, which would have been disastrous for all involved.
After almost ripping the aircraft in two, I stopped practicing - partly because I didn’t want to test my ability to survive a thirty-thousand foot drop, and partly because I had a vicious migraine again. I found that it went away a lot faster than before, however, possibly due to the rapid healing I know possessed. In any case, I was bloody thankful not to be cradling my skull in agony by the time the Osprey touched down at the fortress again, and I stood waiting for the ramp to descend.
After another brief conversation regarding my presence on the aircraft with the ground crew - basically explaining what ‘Self-Loading Cargo’ meant, the idiots - I strode purposefully towards the main door of the immense building, my left hand resting lightly on the hilt of Black Terror.
The two guards flanking the door looked at me in confusion, slowly readying their weapons.
“You were not summoned,” the muscular vampire on my left managed to say, and again I wondered if using so many syllables at once gave them a headache.
“Yes, I was,” I told them defiantly. “Sharriana-”
“The Countess,” the other man-mountain corrected, and I eyed him coldly.
“Sharriana summoned me the moment she orchestrated the death of my wife. I would know why, and I am not leaving without the answers I require.”
“Yes, you are,” the first man said again, and I sighed theatrically.
“Gentlemen, listen very carefully, because I am not a man currently blessed with a lot of patience,” I stated, feeling my anger beginning
to rise. “I will ask you once - stand aside and let me get some answers. I think after what I’ve been through, I deserve that much.”
“Or what?” the second man asked, and I shrugged with one shoulder.
“Or I will be forced to...’persuade’ you. Politely, of course.”
A moment of silence passed, and a growing migraine told me they were communicating telepathically with each other.
“No,” they said in unison, bringing their machine-guns up fully and aiming them at me.
“Leave. Now.”
I took my hand away from the hilt of my sword, and heaved a much larger sigh.
“You know guys, I honestly thought you were smarter than that. Fine.”
I gripped Black Terror backhanded with my right hand, my left reaching up for the hilt of Crimson Raven. In one swift motion I drew both blades and lashed out, Black Terror arcing up and right, Crimson Raven scything down and left.
The two machine-guns fell from unsure hands in two pieces, and I pressed my blades both of their throats.
“Stand. Aside,” I commanded, and they raised their hands in surrender. Probably the single most intelligent thing they’d done most of their lives.
“I knew you’d see sense,” I said cheerfully, sheathing both blades in a smooth motion. “I’ll see you gents later, I’m sure.”
I pushed the door open at that, giving them a cheery wave as I headed inside.
As I suspected, the Countess was not pleased to see me. Which was fine, because quite frankly I was sick of her manipulating everyone else. It was a refreshing change to see her riled for once.
“You were told, Mister Black,” she said icily as I approached her desk, “that I was not going to see you. You were told you would be summoned when I required your presence.”
“Indeed you did, My Lady.”
“And yet, here you are, against the instructions you were given.”
“And yet,” I repeated, pulling the guest chair out with psychic force, “here I am.” I took a seat without waiting to be offered it, not only a massive breach of protocol but also a scathing insult to Sharriana and her position. The corner of her mouth twitched with suppressed anger, and I smiled at her.
“My condolences on the death of your wife,” she said with a severe lack of sincerity.
“You don’t honestly expect me to believe you mean that, do you?” I asked of her, unslinging Crimson Raven and resting it by my chair.
“Of course not, but as I have told you before, I cannot abide rudeness in others.” She leaned back in her own chair, her pale green eyes filled with a mix of disgust and anger. “Why are you here?”
“I want answers,” I told her flatly, and she snorted in derision.
“And what makes you think you deserve them?” she scoffed. “Not even my most trusted servants get told everything, and you are quite far from being that. So tell me why I should answer anything you ask me.”
My own hate for the arrogant woman began to surface, and I clamped it down. As much as I wanted her dead, I needed answers to a few things first, and if I killed her myself I would almost certainly not make it out of the fortress alive - everyone there was loyal to her, and the power vacuum would be counter-productive.
“You manipulated and engineered events to ensure Corvina, my wife, was killed by hunters, all so that you could have me turned into some sort of...psychic attack dog, to be turned loose on your enemies and brought to heel when I was done, only to be put down when you had no further use for me. Why?”
She held up a finger in a ‘just a minute’ gesture, and walked over to her drinks cabinet again.
“I am sure I cannot interest you in a drink this time either, so-”
“Actually, I will this time, My Lady.”
She paused for a moment, and I couldn’t quite tell if it was shock that caused it.
“Very well,” she said levelly. “What would you like? I understand Corvina was rather partial to well-aged whiskeys.”
“That will do, thank you.”
She placed the glass in front of me and took her seat again, moving a notepad aside to clear room for her own drink.
“I owe you nothing,” she told me bluntly, a small smile playing around her lips. “My plans, and the way they are enacted, are not the business of the likes of you. However, just this once, I will tell you.” She sipped her drink before continuing. “You cannot expect me to discover an insurrection against my rule and not take action, Mister Black. To that end, I saw a way to...what is that quaint phrase? Ah, yes. ‘Kill two birds with one stone.’ I removed a threat and gained a weapon, someone with the power to ensure our kind gains the superiority we deserve.”
So, she was a stereotypical megalomaniac, most likely with delusions of becoming the new vampire queen, or some nonsense.
“That’s it?” I asked angrily. “My wife had to die to serve your own ends?” I couldn’t stop the tears that stung my eyes at that moment, and keeping a check on my own emotion was becoming harder with each minute I spoke to the woman.
“Yes, my dear boy, that is precisely it. Now, since you are here, and since you are now what I need you to be, I have a task for you. There is-”
“No.” The single syllable came out flat and hard, and I relished Sharriana’s reaction.
She looked at me suddenly, violent anger flashing in her eyes.
“What?” she hissed, and I could tell she wasn’t expecting that.
“I said, ‘no’. I am not your pawn, I am not your weapon. Whatever you want done, find someone else.”
“A pity,” she said, getting a grip on her own emotion, sitting back and sipping her drink again. “Tisiphone seems like such a delightful young woman, and my degenerate daughter would be most grieved by her loss.”
My sister. So that was how she intended to keep me under control. She could see all the situations in which my sister would die, and had the authority to send her into any one of them if I decided not to comply.
However, I could no longer think about only myself and those I cared about. I had to consider the people I now led at Oxford, the people who were looking to me to assume Corvi’s mantle as the leader of this insurrection. I had to have faith that my sister could take care of herself.
I refused to contemplate any other notion.
Then, finally, something dawned on me. I had missed the clues because of my anger towards Sharriana, but staring into her eyes and thinking about what to do or say next, I suddenly spotted what should have been so clear.
“You have remarkable discipline, My Lady,” I told her, keeping a small smile from my lips as her brow furrowed.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a simple compliment, My Lady,” I said. “You have a lot of discipline, both in terms of your psychic ability and your very careful, very measured way of moving.”
“Flattery will not endear you to me in any way, Deimos,” she said with a sly smirk, and I nodded.
“I’m quite certain of that. But the funny thing is, no amount of discipline can hide what your eyes are screaming to the world.”
“And that is?”
I stood up, leaning over the table and looking directly into those eyes, seeing clearly what I had suspected.
“You’re afraid.”
“And you are deluded,” she snapped, the sudden rush of emotion making the fear more evident.
“Oh no, My Lady, I don’t believe I am. You’re afraid, because in making me into this psychic weapon you’ve lost the ability to see my future, to see what I’m going to do next. That’s why you need my sister as leverage, because without her you will have no way of keeping me under control, no way of seeing what I’ll
do, and the thought of not knowing scares the unholy shit out of you.”
She lashed out at me mentally, attempting to drive me back or choke me again as she did before, but my psychic defences were stronger this time. My nose began to bleed as I felt her attack press into my mind, but I pushed back twice as hard, forcing her to break off after only a few moments.
“I put my life on the line repeatedly in service to you and your organisation, Sharriana, and you repay me by letting the woman I love, my soul-mate, my wife, be fatally wounded in combat and beg me to end her life. Countless others are in the same position, giving their lives in service to you and earning nothing but your scorn and contempt. That is going to end.”
I let my rage run free, using my own abilities to heat her blood. I have to admit, she must’ve had an insane pain tolerance to resist crying out for as long as she did, even as the heat in her veins rendered them visible.
“This insurrection is not at an end, Sharriana,” I snarled to her. “It’s only just beginning, and I promise you now that I will be the one to take your head.”
At that I finally released her, her relieved gasp bringing a cruel smile to my face. I picked up Crimson Raven again, settling the weapon over my back once more as I prepared to leave.
“You will not succeed,” she rasped, and I paused for a moment.
“You’re more than welcome to try and stop me, My Lady,” I told her, bowing low to her. “But I will have your head. Count on it.”
I strode out of the room, allowing myself to feel a small flush of victory. It had been a risky move, but I was sure it would pay off.
I had a sense that the end was getting close - soon we would be making our move against Sharriana and whatever loyal forces she could gather. By making my threat I had committed us to action, and for better or worse we were finally going to bring this to an end.
My flight back was mostly spent trying to plan what the hell I was going to do now. I had threatened the head of The Order, and confessed that I planned to continue the insurrection and lead it against her. With that knowledge, she would not be idle. She was going to try and find some way to stop me, stop us, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.