We walked toward the city center. The throngs parted and then closed behind us. A ring of death that shifted with our movements.
As we approached the sandbag wall, the bodies pressed tighter together. They piled on top of each other to get out of our way. Sometimes their bodies would lift up into the air, flung away by my power.
I didn't know how I was doing that. I wanted them out of my way and so they were. The how was not my concern, just the want.
We passed through the sandbag wall and into the center of the city. I paused at the first intersection, trying to get my bearings. "Which way is the Warlock Society?" I asked Dimitri.
His focus remained on the zombies who'd stopped moving when I did. "Left," he said. “About four blocks.”
I turned left, walking down the center of the street, that circle of space remaining around us as I moved. The only light came from the moon. Shadows of pure black hovered between the corpses that lined our walk, but the light reflected off their pale, bloodless skin.
The horror of them—the ripped limbs, open, festering wounds, the stench—it all faded. They were just objects. Animated objects.
It’s a spell, not a disease.
I didn't know what kind of magic—because I basically knew nothing about magic. Maybe Suki or the force that inhabited her made them?
The crowd thinned as we moved away from the makeshift sandbag wall. Behind us, the groaning and shuffling started up again. As my influence moved with me, the zombies behind us fell back into their patterns.
Were they following us? I turned around to check but couldn't see past the zombies right behind us. "Are they following us?" Megan asked.
"That's just what I was wondering," I said.
"Sounds like it to me," Dimitri said.
"Let's keep moving," I said. “I can deal with them if we need to."
We reached the block housing the Warlock Society. Their compound was surrounded by a brick wall and powerful magic that made it all but invisible to the average human. It wasn't that they couldn't see it, it's just they found it incredibly uninteresting. I had passed it numerous times in my life in the city and never noticed it until Dimitri and I went there.
The magic also kept the zombies away—so it became obvious that a massive crowd followed us. There was a teeming mass behind us now, and almost none in front. While the closer zombies remained under my control, the back of the crowd, the ones several blocks back, were not.
I held up my hand, stopping the zombies behind me from moving. I left them at the end of the block as we walked toward the entrance. They swayed, watching us with those strange eyes.
At the thick, metal-gated entrance, I rang the bell.
A male voice crackled over the intercom. "Hello?" it said.
"This is Darling Price," I said. "Let me and my friends in."
I glanced at my reflection in the gate and stopped breathing. My eyes glowed. Not exactly like the undead I was controlling, but it was not normal. I leaned in toward the reflective metal, at the twisting design, staring at myself. A deep green radiance emanated from my irises.
The intercom crackled, but I didn't hear what the speaker said. I'd stopped breathing. The luminosity in my gaze terrified me. It was…dangerous.
A hand on my arm got my attention. "Hey," Megan said. "Answer them."
I shook my head. "What? I…Megan, my eyes."
"I know," she said. "It happens."
"It happens?" I said. "What does that mean?"
She glanced over her shoulder at the zombies—they had started down the block toward us. I'd let them go.
"Let us in," I said to the intercom, putting urgency in my tone.
"We can't allow vampires on the property."
"Open it now or I'll destroy you all!" Power emanated out of me. The zombies fell to their knees. I placed my hand on the metal gate, my eyes flared in the reflection as massive power thrummed through me. "Now!" My voice vibrated the air, shaking the brick walls.
The gate opened.
The gate closed behind us.
We stood in the courtyard of a large building with decorative columns, intricate stonework, and tall windows shining with electric light. The main door flung open, and a man I'd never seen before came hurrying down the path.
He wore the same dark red robe tied at the waist with a thick rope I'd seen the warlocks wearing on my last visit. "I must warn you," he said, his voice high and breaths coming in pants. This guy didn’t do a lot of running. "We will have no vampire attacks here." His silver glasses slipped down his nose, and he pushed them back up.
"You think these two are a danger to you?” I hooked a thumb over my shoulder at Megan and Dimitri. “You been outside the walls anytime recently?"
"We are fully aware of the situation. We have no need for vampire assistance here." If he’d been wearing pants, I bet he would have pulled up the waistband.
Enough with this guy. “Where is Dr. Tor?"
His eyes widened. “Dr. Tor is…” The warlock swallowed, his throat jumping. “…is zombie bitten."
“Has he turned yet?"
“No.”
“Take me to him."
We entered the front hall to find ten warlocks wearing the same robes, their arms crossed, hands hidden in their wide sleeves. Did they have their wands up there?
I made eye contact with several, letting them see me glow. Not a single one held my gaze. And these were the men I was counting on for help? I may have overestimated their power.
We followed our escort up a large and imposing staircase to the second floor then down a hall. "When was he bitten?" Dimitri asked.
“Yesterday. Tyronios is with him."
The warlock stopped in front of a door and knocked softly. "Come in," came a weary voice.
The warlock opened the door a little, fitting himself in but keeping the three of us out. “It’s Arthur, sir. I have Darling Price with me.”
On my first visit here, Tyronios showed me a letter from my father and books about my ancestors. He'd tried to convince me I could help, and when I left, he'd begged me to return. I’m baacckkk.
Tyronios came to the door, hunched down in his robes. Despite his feeble appearance, great power simmered inside him. "You've returned," he said.
I nodded. "How is Issa?"
He opened the door wide. "Come in. Arthur, you may leave us.” Our escort nodded and returned the way we’d come.
A canopy bed, draped in burgundy and gold paisley material, faced double-height windows. Issa lay on his back, his black hair pushed off his forehead, eyes closed, cheeks flushed, skin wet with sweat.
The gray sheets were pulled away from his left calf. Red liquid seeped through thick bandages. "What happened?" I asked.
"He was trying to help. Ever since the city fell—and the army left—Issa has gone out hunting for humans to save.” Tyronios heaved a sigh. “Hundreds owe him their lives. But this time he…well, you can see. I changed that bandage less than an hour ago."
"He'll die of blood loss soon," Dimitri said, looking at the prone doctor.
"Can you help him?" I asked.
"I could try to turn him."
"No," Tyronios said. "He wouldn't want that."
"He'd rather be a zombie?" I asked.
"He'd rather be dead. We won't let him live much longer." His voice came out quiet and soft.
"I guess he didn't have any luck using my blood to create a vaccine," I said.
Tyronios shook his head. "No, it's not a disease."
"I was just thinking that."
"You were?"
"I think it's a spell."
Tyronios smiled. "So do we."
"Issa does?"
"Yes, he began to think it was the only logical explanation. However, we are only at the beginning of investigating the possibility. Without him it will be more difficult."
"So doesn't it make sense to turn him?" Megan asked.
“He would not want that."
"Do his personal wan
ts and needs matter more than the universe?" I asked with a raised brow. I mean, I want to be screwing my super-hot, powerful, amazing boyfriend, but I’m here instead…
Tyronios looked at me with tired eyes. "I can't make that decision for him."
“Can he make it himself?" I asked, looking back to Issa. He stirred, his lips moving. A bad dream?
"He’s been unconscious for hours. No warlock from our order has ever been turned vampire. It is against everything we believe in." Tyronios’s hands clenched into fists.
"I don't know what that means, and I don't care," I said. "Everything you believe in?" I shook my head. "You think it's such a horrible fate? He can kill himself once he helps us save the universe. All he has to do is walk out into the sun." I turned to Dimitri. "Isn't that right?"
"That would be very difficult for him to do, but I will kill him myself if he wishes."
"See?" I said, pointing at Dimitri. "There, we have a solution. Once he helps us end the zombie plague, he can die. But right now, we need him alive."
"I can't make this decision alone. I will have to speak with the rest of our leadership."
"Do we have time for that?" I asked Dimitri.
"His heartbeat is weak. I'd like to get started right away."
"I will be quick," Tyronios said, heading for the hall.
"I'll go with you," I offered.
“No." He stopped in the doorway. "I must speak to them alone."
Tyronios left and the three of us waited alone with Issa. Time slogged by, Issa’s breath rattling louder with each minute.
“If I do not turn him now, we will be too late,” Dimitri said.
"Turn him," I said, not willing to risk loosing the doctor.
Dimitri nodded and sat on the bed. He took Issa's hand, exposing the man's wrist, pale and slick with sweat. Dimitri bit.
Issa moaned, and his eyelids fluttered but didn't open. Dimitri pulled back, spitting out the blood onto the already stained sheets. He took an empty glass from the bedside table and held it under the flow of blood. "Megan," he said. "Hold this for me."
She took Issa's wrist and the cup while Dimitri stood and circled the bed, sitting on the far side. He pulled back his own shirt sleeve and pierced his wrist. Blood pooled around his lips, and Dimitri cupped the back of the unconscious man's head. He brought Issa’s mouth to meet the fresh wound.
Issa didn't move, letting Dimitri's blood spill down his chin. “Drink,” Dimitri said, laying his influence over Issa. The warlock’s lips moved against the wound. He suckled gently at first but soon began to take deep draws.
Dr. Tor’s eyes flew open.
The mahogany brown eyes I recognized clouded over with a blue haze. With each suck of blood they brightened, transforming into that strange ice blue that all vampires shared.
Except Megan…and Dimitri. Because of me.
The wound on Issa's wrist began to heal, the water glass almost full. "Open it," Dimitri said to Megan. She reached down and tore the flesh with her fangs. "Don't drink it," Dimitri warned.
She spit it onto the floor. "Ugh, tastes terrible."
I looked around for another vessel and spotted a trash can in the corner. It already had some bloody cloth in it. I passed it to Megan, taking the cup of blood from her and putting it on the bedside table as she held the metal bin under Issa's wrist.
When I returned my gaze to Issa's face, he was staring at me. His lips were locked onto Dimitri's wrist, sucking vigorously, as his eyes bored into me. His skin grew paler, looking more like Megan and Dimitri, a stark contrast with his dark hair and brows.
"Will he be himself?" I asked.
"He will retain his human knowledge. However, he will be dangerous for some time."
"He will?"
Dimitri smiled gently, running a hand over Issa's hair. "He will recover quickly—he is strong. I can feel it."
"What do you mean by dangerous?" I asked.
"He won't have much control," Megan answered. "Newly turned vampires are usually kept locked up for the first few weeks."
“Don’t worry,” Dimitri said. "I will control him."
"His hunger will make it hard for him to concentrate, though.” Megan added.
The blood leaking from Issa's wrist into the trash can looked brighter, a more vibrant red.
"Enough," Dimitri said, pulling his wrist away from Issa's mouth. The doctor tried to follow it, his blood-coated tongue reaching for Dimitri's skin, but the older vampire pushed him back into the pillow.
The wound in Issa's wrist healed, scarring over and then smoothing out into a perfectly polished surface.
"Rest," Dimitri said to Issa. The new vampire looked at me again, his eyes bright. "He wants you," Dimitri said with a smile. "His transformation is almost complete."
"What else do we have to do?”
"We just need a human."
"I don't think we are going to find anyone willing around here," I said.
"They don't have to be willing," Dimitri said, petting Issa's hand like he was a child.
"Can't I give him some of my blood?"
"No," Dimitri shook his head. "That would be too much for him." Dimitri’s eyes flashed blue. "He must drink from a real human."
"I think there are only warlocks here," I said.
Megan shook her head. "There is staff that is human. I can smell them. Besides, warlocks are human."
"They are just able to manipulate magic," Dimitri said. "But they do not have the source in them. They take magic from the world around them."
"I'll go get someone," Megan said and stood. I went to sit where she'd been, but Dimitri stopped me.
"He needs space. You're too tempting."
"Should I leave?"
"Just don't get too close."
I nodded, staying a few feet from the bed. "Rest," Dimitri said to Issa. His influence hovered around the doctor, pushing his eyes closed and weighting him to the bed.
"You can control him easily," I said.
"As his maker, I will always have power over him." Dimitri closed his eyes for a moment, resting his hand on Issa's forehead. "He was a good man."
"Does that mean he'll be a good vampire?"
Dimitri looked up at me. "It will be hard for him."
"Why?"
"It is hard for all of us at first. But in my time, humans and vampire were…more alike.”
"What do you mean?"
"Humans killed to live the same way vampires did. There was no living without killing."
"You killed people before you were a vampire?"
"I was a soldier. But even humans not drawn into war killed to eat. Now you can buy your food in stores. There is a separation between our natures that has grown over time."
"But vampires don't have to kill," I said. "You can just…sip, right?"
Dimitri smiled. "Yes, but it is still a more visceral experience than frying chicken.” Frying chicken? “It is in a vampire’s nature to disregard human life. Even if we do not kill, we still do not…care. But Issa Tor dedicated his life to healing. Becoming a creature of the night will be a difficult transition.” Oh well, we all have our cross to bear. “He will not be the same."
"Megan isn't that different," I said.
"Isn't she?" Dimitri asked, raising his eyebrows. "Perhaps that is because of you."
"What do you mean?"
"Her eyes. You know she's in a kind of limbo—still capable of human feelings while feeding the way she does."
“You really think it’s me?” I do…
He laughed softly. "I felt my heart beat in rhythm for the first time in centuries because of you. Would it not make sense that the source of your best friend’s humanity lies with you?"
"But we weren't...intimate. We were just best friends."
"Is there anything more intimate than that?" Dimitri cocked his head, listening. A moment later, I heard a commotion. There were voices coming down the hall.
"What's going on?" I asked.
“The warlock
s are coming. And they are arguing.”
Great. More drama. Men. I tell yah.
The door burst open, and four warlocks quickly filled the space. Tyronios was the last to enter. The three strangers did not introduce themselves. They each held a wand. Magic crackled in them.
I closed my eyes to see their power more clearly then laid my own over it—freezing them in space, their arms raised, magic sputtering at the ends of their wands.
Opening my eyes, I met Tyronios’s gaze. “It's already done," I said.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his focus shifting to Issa.
“He's been turned."
"But..." The rest of his sentence died. He pushed past the frozen figures and up to the bed.
"Don't get too close," Dimitri warned. "Unless you are willing to donate your blood."
Tyronios grabbed onto one of the bedposts, leaning heavily on the solid wood. "I can't. How?"
The three warlocks under my control fought against the power I'd enveloped them in. The closest was the largest. Probably in his early thirties, he was also the youngest. They all wore the same burgundy robes as Tyronios.
The other two were older, one with white hair, sparse at the top of his head. The other was short and thin, though I could tell he was the most powerful. While Young Guy and White Head tried to push back against my power, Thin Guy seemed to be trying to duck it.
He wasn't pressing out but rather closing in. I recognized the move. It was something I'd done when I realized I could avoid being influenced by vampires. He was protecting his core, the absolute center of him, by closing down around it, while the other two, by pushing against me, were exposing themselves to more control.
Tyronios turned to me. "Do you know what you've done?"
"Not sure what you're talking about here," I said. "Are you referring to allowing Dimitri to turn Dr. Tor into a vampire, or the fact that I'm controlling three of your warlocks right now?"
"I was talking about Dr. Tor." He pointed at Issa, whose bright blue eyes were locked on Tyronios's throat.
"We need to get blood or he will die,” Dimitri said, calm as can be.
Tyronios opened his mouth to speak, and I raised my hand. "Unless you are about to offer up your vein, I'm not interested in anything you have to say."
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