The Turned

by A A Mize

  Goliath sprung forward toward Matthias, slashing the blade at his opponent with such force that Rowan’s blood spattered from the blade and across the wall. Matthias barely dodged the attack, ducking to the side and tripping the larger man. Goliath rounded on Matthias, regaining his footing more quickly than Matthias had expected.

  Again Goliath charged, nearly trampling Sophie and Rowan in his pursuit of Matthias. Sophie cried out, closing her eyes tight as she prepared for impact that never came. As quickly as she could, she scrambled away from the fighting men, dragging Rowan’s lifeless body with much difficulty. The dead weight was too much for her and she knew she had to do something. She wasn’t going to be some damsel in distress, waiting for her turn to meet the blade.

  Sophie stood over Rowan and grabbed the nearest object: a heavy brass fire poker from beside the couch. She held it up, ready to use it as a weapon if need be.

  Goliath crashed into Matthias, who gripped his attacker’s wrists as he was pushed against the desk. The larger man struggled against Matthias, bearing down on him with the dagger until Matthias was on his back across the desk. His muscles quivered with the strain of keeping the blade from his throat and Goliath grinned maliciously.

  A heavy thud filled Sophie’s ears and Goliath cried out, whipping around to see what had struck him. Sophie stood behind him, blood dripping from the fire poker that she had just hit him with. He took one step toward her before his entire body froze, dagger held high above his head.

  Sophie gasped, backing away but something wasn’t right. Goliath wasn’t moving. The blade shook in his hand and blood began to trickle from his eyes. He gagged and vomited blood before crashing to the floor. Behind him Matthias stood with his hand extended toward where Goliath had just been standing. He panted heavily, dropping to his knees, a drop of blood ran from his nose.

  “Matthias,” Sophie said, tossed aside the fire poker and crossed Goliath’s body to kneel beside him. Artashir said that Matthias was strong, that he could kill by basically turning his victim’s brain to mush, but she never thought she’d see him do it.

  “I’m fine,” Matthias huffed. “But Rowan…he’s—”

  “What’s going on in here?” Artashir’s voice boomed from the doorway as the man charged in, ax ready to strike down any foe he encountered. Horus was hot on his heels but both men stopped in their tracks as they entered the room. Sophie had returned to Rowan, pulling him back into her lap. Artashir’s ax fell with a heavy clank to the floor and Horus’s face turned stony at the sight of his beloved Pupil.

  “Rowan,” the name slipped from Horus’s lips like a prayer, a whisper in the darkness.

  “He’s not dead,” Sophie said, her voice determined but shaky.

  “Sophie...” Matthias put his hand on her shoulder.

  “No. He’s not dead. Give me that dagger,” she ordered, pointing to Samiell’s dagger.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked warily, handing her the blood-coated blade.

  As thoroughly and quickly as possible she scrubbed the blade clean on the edge of her shirt until she could hold the it up to the moonlight and see its silver surface free of blood.

  “Sophie?” Artashir breathed, warning her with his tone.

  Self-preservation wouldn’t allow her to press the blade into her flesh at first, stopping just short of drawing blood. One look into Rowan’s eyes and Sophie drew the dagger quickly across her forearm, releasing a gasp of pain as she let the blade fall to the floor. Matthias’s hand tightened on her shoulder, but she paid him no mind. She pressed the wound to Rowan’s lips, allowing the blood to drip into his lips, and yet nothing happened. It was only pooling in his mouth.

  Sophie’s lips encircled as much of the wound as possible and she sucked out a mouthful of blood, her stomach churning at the taste and warmth. Her fingers pushed through Rowan’s hair as she pulled his head up closer and pressed his lips to hers, forcing the blood down his throat. His skin was like ice, cold and pale but as she pulled away, they were tinted a deep red with fresh blood. Matthias shifted at her side as she sucked more blood from her cut and forced Rowan to drink it through her kiss.

  “You have to stop,” Matthias said gently.

  Sophie only shook her head, placing her lips on her arm once more. Matthias waited until she pulled away from Rowan the third time when he caught her arm firmly in his hand.

  “Sophie, let me heal you,” he insisted.

  Tears in her eyes Sophie nodded in agreement, holding out her arm to let Matthias do what was necessary. She hardly felt his tongue lap at the wound as he healed the cut that might have needed stitches otherwise. Her eyes were still locked on Rowan’s, the thumb of her free hand stroking his cheek.

  “Ye tried, lass,” Horus said quietly, feeling helpless to save his Pupil.

  “He’s not dead,” Sophie exhaled, waiting for any change in Rowan.

  The men fell silent. Slowly, the color returned to Rowan’s eyes, shifting them from a pale gray into a light brown. They were nowhere near the color they were naturally, but it was a start. His wounds began to heal, and a weak cough escaped his bloodied lips.

  “Sophie?” he whispered dryly.

  “I’m here,” she replied, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks. She pulled him in tight to her chest, stroking his blood-matted hair as she silently thanked God for bringing him back from the brink.

  “I can’t believe it,” Artashir murmured.

  “Believe it, lad. Rowan’s alive!” Horus declared, clapping his hand on Artashir’s back as a victorious smile curled the edges of his lips, the sparkle returning to his emerald eyes. “Ye got too close there. This lassie here, she saved yer ass, ya know?”

  “Let’s get those chains off,” Artashir said, his thick hands squeezing between Rowan’s body and the chain that bound him. With little effort, the behemoth snapped the metal and it fell in heavy piles on the floor.

  “How?” Rowan asked as Matthias helped him to a chair.

  “She force fed you. How’re you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been hit by a train.”

  “Those wounds won’t heal fast enough,” Artashir said. “You might need more just to keep on your feet.”

  “Whatever he needs,” Sophie said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course,” she said, fingers laced in his as she held her free arm out for him.

  Rowan grazed her flesh with his fangs, seemingly reluctant to feed from her. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her when he finally punctured her skin, but she didn’t feel pain from the bite. The area grew pleasantly warm and the bleeding from his wounds was visibly slowing even though they weren’t healing.

  “Did Yvette do this?” Matthias asked once Rowan had taken enough blood and sealed the bite.

  “Yes and no,” Rowan replied. “She was behind all of it. Ivanka, Rachel, Azazel, the Rogues. She thinks that if you and Sophie are out of the way and I lose my territory that I’ll go with her back to New York City and eventually get a larger one there.”

  “She really does just want you,” Sophie said from her place on the floor. She was feeling weak but there wasn’t an ounce of regret in her. They needed Rowan to take Yvette down. They didn’t need her.

  “That is true, more or less. She wants what she thinks I can give her: power. Yvette was wronged by many in her life and she made it her mission to level the playing field. She would marry these men in their old age, and one by one kill them, attaining their vast fortunes but for all that time she spent amassing her fortune and getting revenge, she isn’t exactly respected. Most Turned that know of her, see her for what she is; a snake.”

  “Ye won’t have to worry about her bein’ listed as a Rogue,” Horus said. “The Elders were reviewin’ the case anyway but after this… they’ll want her to trial. Executed if I have anythin’ to say ‘bout it.”

  “I can’t afford to wait for the Elders to handle this. We’re going to put a stop to this. Tonight,” Rowan said, pushing hi
mself up from the chair to stand on shaky legs. Matthias was beside him in an instant, offering support but Rowan just put a hand up to stop him.

  “Ye could. It’d be within’ yer right.”

  “She’s gone after Sophie. Somehow she found out that I was keeping her at Samiell’s and before she left she was headed there. But I see you got one of her Rogues out of the way at least,” he said, noticing the body of Goliath lying motionless on the floor.

  “Yeah, Matthias took care of him. I agree that she has to be stopped but you won’t do much good in that state,” Artashir said. “You need to feed again and regain more of your strength.”

  “I can find someone on the way. There will be plenty of humans around the perimeter of the Quarter, wanting to know what’s going on. I’m sure I can feed around there without being noticed.”

  “What about your wounds?” Matthias asked. “It’ll take time to heal those. I think you might need to sit this one out.”

  “No,” Rowan insisted. “Bandage me up and let’s go. We don’t have time and I won’t allow you to fix my mistakes. Yvette is my responsibility and I will put her down.”

  There would be no arguing with him. Matthias went to get the first aid kit from the kitchen and Horus patched Rowan up quickly as the others prepared to leave.

  “Alrigh’ then, let’s get ye out there,” Horus said, jerking his head toward the door. “Matthias, grab up his dagger for ’im. Migh’ need it later.”

  “You can ride with Sophie,” Matthias said.

  “What?” Rowan asked, bracing himself on the banister of the stairs as he struggled to walk down them.

  “Samiell let her take a motorcycle. You can ride with her,” Matthias replied.

  Rowan peered over his shoulder at Sophie only to be greeted with an awkward shrug.

  “We need to hurry. Yvette was headed to Samiell’s and I’m not sure how long I was unconscious,” Rowan said as he swung a leg over the back of the bike, scooting in close to Sophie.

  “Matthias, lead the way,” Artashir ordered, slinging his ax over his shoulder. “Horus and I will follow in case there are more Rogues.”

  Sophie shoved the helmet down over her head as Rowan’s hands rested on her waist. She swallowed hard and started the bike, sniffling back tears. He leaned into her and they took off. She didn’t want to be without him. The tightening in her throat made it hard to swallow. She loved him and soon she’d have to leave him behind.

  52

  Wind whipped through the barren tree branches outside of Samiell’s home, swaying the Spanish moss with signs of an impending storm. Rowan looked toward the sky as he stepped out of his car, noting the darkening forming on the horizon, too dark for the human eye to see at night. He could smell the fresh scent of rain on the air, mixing with that of the Mississippi River. His eyes trailed back down to Sophie, who had followed them back on the Ducati after they had stopped to allow him to feed and return in his own car with Matthias, Horus, and a very uncomfortable Artashir.

  Sophie pulled off the helmet and stared at the house. “Something’s not right. It’s too dark in there. Before I left Samiell had the fire going in the foyer and Sarah was in the kitchen making tea.”

  “I have no doubt that Yvette has been here. We don’t know what we’ll find inside, but I don’t think she’s gone,” Rowan replied. “Does everyone have a weapon?”

  Artashir held up his ax, still caked in dried blood from felled Rogues.

  “The boy doesn’ need one,” Horus said, jabbing a thumb at Matthias. “But here. Just in case he can have the brass knuckles. As fer me, I have pistols.”

  “You had guns this whole damn time?” Matthias asked. “Seriously?”

  “Ye don’ jus’ waste silver rounds on Rogues, laddie,” Horus retorted, handing Sophie one of the guns.

  “What are you doing?” Rowan snapped. “She’s not coming.”

  “Course she is,” Horus stated, brow furrowed in confusion. “Ye know Yvette wants her dead. Whaddya thinks gonna happen if she stays out here, eh? She’s gotta go in with us. Go on, lass—take the gun.”

  Sophie tentatively grabbed the pistol offered to her and observed its polished surface in the moonlight where Colt Government Model was engraved on the slide. Her father had one of these. Her mother kept it as a memento on the mantel, but they weren’t allowed to touch it.

  “Be careful, it’s very loaded. Just point an’ shoot. Easy. Now let’s go,” Horus said, beginning the trek up the rest of the driveway to the house.

  “Stay close,” Rowan said, and Sophie fell in behind him.

  Horus reached the top of the stairs, the mansion’s gallery loomed over them like the mouth of a lion, ready to swallow them whole. The Elder didn’t bother to knock. He drew his weapon and pushed the door open, letting it swing inward slowly before stepping into the darkness of the foyer.

  Red-hot coals from a recently extinguished fire smoldered in the fireplace, casting their glow on the bodies of Samiell and Sarah. She was laid across the old man as if to protect him.

  “Samiell...” Sophie gasped, jumping into Rowan. He pulled her close to his side as Horus checked the bodies of the Notary and his Companion. The room fell dead silent, the group waiting on bated breath to find out the fates of their friends.

  “They’re alive,” Horus finally said, allowing himself a heavy exhale as the others did as well.

  Rowan lifted Sarah from the floor. She was still unconscious, limp in his arms. He took her to a nearby settee as Horus helped the old Notary into his chair. The man began to stir, dried blood crusting on his lips. Whatever injuries he had sustained were healing, but slowly.

  “Sarah?” Samiell croaked, his hands shaky as he looked around for his beloved Companion.

  “She’ll be alrigh’. Just rest,” Horus said, kneeling beside the other Elder. “Can ye tell us what happened?”

  Samiell took a few deep breaths and steadied himself. “Yvette came with a Rogue. Big guy, like Artashir. I thought you were all returning at last, so I had Sarah open the door and that’s when they barged right in here and attacked us.”

  “Are they still here?” Matthias asked.

  “I don’t know,” Samiell shook his head, his thick white beard swaying.

  “Split up and search the house,” Horus ordered. “Matthias, I want ye with me. Rowan, Artashir, take the other side of the house. Sophie, just stay here, lass. I need ye to take that gun I gave ye, and if ye see Yvette or the Rogues she’s got, kill ’em. I know it’s gonna be hard, but jus’ remember... it’s them’r you. They won’ show ye mercy, so don’ let ’em get to ye, alrigh’?”

  Horus led Matthias and Artashir up the stairs, but Rowan stayed with Sophie, pulling her over to the side to speak with her privately.

  “No matter what you might hear upstairs, don’t go up there. You stay here, close to Samiell. If you need me, all you have to do is call for me and I’ll hear you,” Rowan said, gripping her shoulder a little too tightly.

  “Be careful,” Sophie said.

  He released his grip on her and ascended the stairs to join the others, looking back once more to Sophie, who watched him until he disappeared from her sight.

  53

  Sophie tossed a log on the hot coals, hoping it would catch fire on its own. Anxiety crept up on her, making her too paranoid to turn her back on the room for very long. Samiell shifted in his seat as Sophie stood with her back to the fireplace. The log she had set in it beginning to burn, lighting the room a little. Her eyes scanned the darkest corners of the room, but it was in vain. Her vision wasn’t strong enough to detect the things a Turned could, and Samiell wasn’t having much luck, either. Being Turned as an old man didn’t do much to his sight, bringing it back up a little above par for a human. She hoped his hearing was better than his sight.

  A soft shuffling overhead turned into stamping feet and the distinct sounds of a struggle. Sophie jumped at the din, aiming the pistol at the top of the stairs, eyes searching for any sign of move
ment as her heart pounded in her chest. If not for Rowan telling her to stay put she would have charged in to help them.

  The sounds of the fight escalated as glass shattered and wood splintered. A gunshot echoed through the house followed closely by an unfamiliar voice yelling. Sophie’s hands readjusted their grip on the handgun as two shadows darted past the top of the stairs toward the commotion. No doubt it was Rowan and Artashir, rushing to aid Horus and Matthias.

  Sophie held her breath as shouts and cursing ended with another gunshot and a heavy thud. The second floor of the manor, a flurry of activity only moments before fell eerily silent.

  “Is it over?” Samiell asked, leaning over in his chair to see up to the landing, but to no avail.

  Sophie returned the pistol to her hip, covering it with her shirt. “Maybe?”

  “Sophie,” a voice called out from the top stairs. “Are all of you okay?”

  “Rowan? Yes, we’re okay,” Sophie said as Rowan joined her at the bottom of the stairs. “Is it over? Is Yvette dead?”

  “No. I’m afraid we haven’t found her yet. But the other Rogue she hired is dead,” Rowan replied.

  Sophie eyed him suspiciously. He no longer had his coat on and although dried blood still stained his shirt, torn in places from his knife wounds, she didn’t know if they were in the right places. It wasn’t until he saw the crescent moon pendant glistening in the firelight that she felt more secure that this was, indeed, Rowan and not Yvette shape-shifting.

  “Horus doesn’t want to allow Yvette the chance to escape so he suggested that I search the main floor. I don’t think you should be unprotected—no offense, Samiell,” he said, walking with confidence toward the far hall.

  Sophie didn’t move. Something didn’t seem right about him. She shifted her weight anxiously when he turned at the far end of the foyer.

  “Aren’t you coming?” Rowan asked.

  “What about Artashir? I thought Horus wanted you to stay together.”