Risorgimento: Rebirth

by Maya Daniels

“I think I might’ve been right. She is mute,” Andrei adds softly.

  “The two of you are idiots!” The man holding me cradled to his chest snaps angrily. “And the Council will pay greatly for bringing her to this state.”

  Silent tears trickle down my face, soaking the expensive shirt under my cheek. I know it's costly because the softness of the fabric is like nothing I've ever felt before. Blurry images of my surroundings pass by while I'm carried through the hallway. The lobby is deathly silent as the monster cradling me to his chest strides purposely through it. Numbly, I watch the hanging chandeliers with their soft-yellow glow sparkle through my tear-filled gaze. The painted ceiling tiles—or whatever they are called—don't inspire awe in me anymore. They resemble twisted, laughing faces, gloating at my predicament. No one says a word. I can't even hear their footsteps until we reach the elevators.

  I can feel the presence of all three monsters like a fist around my heart. I'm so cold. With each passing moment, the chill settles more firmly in my soul, in my bones. Almost jumping out of my skin when the soft ding sounds before the doors slide open, I'm surprised the monster doesn't drop me. When my body jerks at the sound, he only tightens his hold on me slightly. He stops with one foot inside the elevators, and from the corners of my eyes, I see two different hands lash out at each side of the entrance, holding the doors open for him. They should let them close now and crush me alongside the monster. It's a better way to die than whatever they have planned for me.

  "I will take the stairs with her." The baritone vibrates through his chest into mine and settles. A current of energy follows it, racing through my spine from my tailbone and all the way to the top of my head.

  "We will all go—" Andrei starts, but a low growl cuts him off. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end from the sound.

  "You two will go clean up the…" the Sire trails off, and his face tilts down, glancing at me. "Clean up the mess upstairs before I bring her there."

  Before he turns around, Marcus and Andrei slide in the elevator without any further comments. Even in my state, I can't help but wonder what kind of a mess they need to clean up. What does a monster's place look like? Will I see other humans tortured and killed before I meet my end? Crazy images of horror after horror float in my mind while the monster carries me to his den.

  He is surprisingly gentle for a killer.

  I still haven't been jostled, even when he starts climbing the stairs. Every step he takes on the soft red carpet under his feet is purposeful and slow, either for my benefit, which I doubt, or to give the other two time to clean up whatever mess he didn't want me to see. Why that matters to him is beyond me. Then again, almost everything is beyond me at this point.

  The shaking of my body continues, and now my teeth start chattering as well. The tears haven't stopped sliding down my face, and the white shirt is beginning to look gray, no doubt from all the dirt I'm smudging on it with my tears. In the middle of it all, the scent of the man holding me enters my stuffy nostrils, creating a tingling sensation in the center of my chest. With great effort, I move my hand there, pressing my fingers between my breasts in hopes to make it go away.

  It only makes me tremble harder.

  "Do not fear me." His words make my head snap up, lodging my heart in my throat. "You should never fear me." Looking down at me, he doesn't stop climbing the stairs.

  The neon lights that glow above our heads create star-like specks in his black eyes. My face is so close to his, I should be able to see his pupils. I see none. Only blackness sprinkled with white specks, like staring at the universe sprinkled with stars. It's challenging to take a breath, my lungs shriveling in my chest. Something ancient is lurking behind his gaze. Something alien and powerful.

  Something deadly.

  Duh, April. He is a damn monster that feeds on the blood of humans, you idiot, my mind screams at me and, flinching, I snap my focus away from his face. What the hell is the matter with me?

  "I know you are scared," he murmurs, almost making me believe we are taking a stroll instead of him taking me to my death. "What they have done to you cannot be taken back." I can feel his eyes staring at the top of my head. I don't dare move. "I believe it can be healed." We keep going for a few long minutes before he sighs. "I will do everything so you can heal."

  Keeping my face down and hidden from him, my eyebrows incredulously climb all the way up to my hairline. Maybe everyone is scared of these Italians because they are all mental. Listening to him talk, part of me thinks I have finally found myself a guardian angel that will protect me. That from this moment on, I'll be safe. It's so stupid that I almost laugh.

  "I know you understand me and that you can talk," Sire blabs on, and if he doesn't stop soon, I'll think he is trying to fill the silence with nonsense. "You have been suffering for very long, and you need time."

  We continue climbing up, and all I can feel is him around me. His softly spoken words overwhelm my senses while they are reverberating from him to me as he holds me to his chest. I tune out whatever he is saying, but I can't ignore the sound of his voice and all the shit it's stirring inside me. To make everything worse, the damn red carpet stretches in front of us, looking like blood. My stomach churns. A monster is taking me to my death, walking through a river of blood.

  We exit the stairwell, thankfully before my hysteria hits the point of no return. My breathing is accelerated, and the shaking is reaching some crazy levels. Sire only tightens his hold on me, pressing me firmly to his chest, and his long legs eat up the space to the thick, cream door at the end of the hallway. We are a few steps away from the door when it swings open. Marcus zeroes in on me straight away, and his face scrunches up in worry. Even Andrei lurks in the background, tilting his head to see us better around Marcus.

  All I can focus on in front of me is a gaping hole leading to the pits of my personal Hell. I know deep into my very being that if I cross that threshold, my life, no matter how short it is, will never be the same again. It's not some gut feeling or fear talking. No. It's a knowing from somewhere deep in my soul. Regardless of what these monsters will do to me, this knowing is more terrifying. It's more final than death.

  I have no idea why I thought that. All I've ever wanted was to survive. I've never actually sat down to try to contemplate life. Not until recently, when I convinced myself that fear is useless. These monsters, this hotel with its beautifully decorated walls, floors, and ceilings, and especially that stupid door coming closer, they all feel like physical hands that are gripping an invisible rope tied at the center of my soul. Sire is still talking, his words becoming clearer, and I hear them like some curse echoing around me in the unnaturally silent space.

  "…this is your home, and I will kill anyone that will try to harm you." With those words, he crosses the threshold.

  My chest is zapped, a bolt of lightning hitting right in the middle of it. My body convulses so sharply in his arms he nearly drops me. My eyes roll to the back of my head. Before I lose consciousness, a scream so tortured that it will haunt me even after death scares the shit out of me.

  That scream came from me.

  Sebastian

  I keep tightening my arms around the woman I am holding like a babe to my chest. Her body is so light, I need to reassure myself I am not imagining her. Her slight shivering is due to shock, I understand that, but while talking to her, she seems to calm down. Andrei might've been onto something when he mentioned something similar at the pool area where I found her.

  Impatient to hide her away from prying eyes, I think nothing of it when my feet cross the space leading me to my rooms. Plowing through Marcus and Andrei, I stop short when her body arches so hard I almost lose my hold on her. The scream that rips from her dry lips feels like a hot poker to my brain. Dropping on my knees, pressing her face in the crook of my neck, I curl my body around her, cocooning her tiny, fragile form.

  "What the fuck is happening here?" My roar rattles the windows of the penthouse. The sound of bre
aking glass somewhere in the living room follows it.

  I can feel the anger radiating from Marcus and Andrei through our bond. A wave of power slams into me like a raging bull. Without looking back, I uncurl myself and push the unconscious woman towards both of them. Standing to my full height, I face whoever it is that made themselves known.

  "Sebastian." The cultured voice stirs the beast in me. I can feel it pushing under my skin, wanting to come out. I hold it in check, locking my gaze on the male standing casually in the living room.

  "Niklas." Tipping my head slightly to acknowledge his cunning, I keep my eyes locked on his. Two Council members in one night. I should be honored.

  I'm not.

  "What brings you to my rooms this evening?" Straightening the sleeves of my shirt and my jacket, I walk further inside the room.

  "I would be a bad host if I care nothing about how my guests are faring, no?" His German accent makes the words sound cold and curt. It still can't hide the curiosity and animosity that rings loud and clear.

  "They do have doors in this place." Combing my fingers to smooth my disheveled hair, I level him with a glare. "It's customary to knock first."

  Niklas is as big as me, taller than your average male by a few inches. His blond hair is neatly combed to the side, his ice-blue eyes missing nothing. The Council robes flow around him, pooling at the floor, covering his clothing. If rumors are true, more like covering his naked flesh. Apparently, this particular Council member doesn't like clothing much. His face is youthful, unlined. He looks a year or so younger than me. Physically. In reality, he is older. Quite a few centuries older at that.

  "Ah." He waves his hand, nonchalantly. "I had every intention of being civil." A big grin splits his face, long fangs glistening in the light of the chandelier hanging between us. "The carelessly tossed around bodies gracing the floor of the lobby when I entered the hotel changed my mind." Tilting his head slightly, his smile disappears. "I thought you might have trouble at your doors. I used the windows to lend you a hand. It seems you don't need help after all."

  Saying nothing, I keep watching him. First Irina, now him. I smell bullshit but keep my mouth shut. Andrei was right. We might've given them more than we should have last night. It didn't worry me then, thinking I had more time until we got the girl. Having her here at the moment changes everything.

  "You must not think very highly of me if you think I need help to take care of myself or mine." Striding towards the bar at the corner of the room, I turn my back on him.

  Short of slapping him in the face, I can't think of a bigger insult.

  "Careful who you anger, boy." My smile hurts my cheeks at the simmering rage in his softly spoken words.

  Too bad he can't see it since he is staring at my back.

  "I need a drink; it has nothing to do with angering anyone." Pouring the whiskey in two glasses, I finally turn to look at him. "I think it’s a bigger insult that you thought I needed saving."

  "With four Guardians beheaded, and a dozen or so slathered downstairs right after I heard Irina paid you a visit, you can't blame me." Reluctantly, he walks towards my outstretched arm, taking the offered glass. "I was told she was furious when she was seen leaving the hotel."

  "And you what?" One side of my mouth quirks up in a mocking smile. "Thought you'd find me here beheaded as well? By Irina?"

  "That snake can get vicious when she doesn't get what she wants." Disgust twists every feature on his face.

  "Good thing I'm a snake charmer, huh?" Chuckling, I take my spot in one of the chairs, tilting my chin in invitation for him to take the other.

  "I should've known better," he concedes, lowering slowly in the opposite chair. "Which reminds me. What have you got here?" Niklas glances curiously at Marcus and Andrei. "Or had, I should say."

  Both of them are standing motionless, shoulder to shoulder. There is no sign of the girl, although her stench lingers in the air around us, reminding everyone, especially Niklas, of her presence. Surprisingly, despite my acute sense of smell, I don’t mind the stench half as much as the site of her broken state bothers me. Marcus and Andrei don't even blink, staring at the broken windows. I realize I haven't answered, and Niklas has a line forming between his eyebrows.

  "Food." My reply startles him slightly.

  "You always protect your food with your life?"

  "They taste better when they are alive." Not allowing him to notice the unsettled feeling in my gut, I keep my face passive. "I never acquired a taste for corpses." A short burst of surprised laughter escapes the Council member. "But, you're not here to talk about my diet. So, Niklas…what brings you to my door, or window if you may."

  Niklas watches me for long moments through a narrowed gaze. His eyes are so light blue that they are almost white, reminding me of the glass that sprinkled all over the living room floor. So much for cleaning this place up before the girl sees it. At least Andrei and Marcus were smart enough to remove the dead human I left in my haste to see the girl. I'm not sure she would react calmly to that.

  "There is talk that you came to North America looking to form alliances." Relaxing back in the chair, Niklas takes a sip from the whiskey and stares at the glass dispassionately. "I was coming to see if we can both benefit from such a thing."

  "After you were told that Irina was here." Not a question. A statement.

  "She has always been impulsive and reckless." Waving his hand dismissively, he pins me with his intent gaze. "Between you and me"—After I nod my agreement, he jerks his head sharply once—"I never thought for a second you would go there. You might be younger than us, but you are a smart male. Smarter than most of them dare to admit." His smile says he knows something the rest of them don't. It doesn't sit well with me—not that I'll tell him that.

  "I haven't thought of forming anything." Sipping my own drink that tastes like nothing, I eye him over the rim of my glass. "Italy gets boring from time to time. I needed a change of scenery. I'm starting to think I should've chosen a more exotic place."

  "Bah, nonsense!" Slamming the glass on the side table, whiskey sloshes over his hand. He doesn't seem to notice. "You are always welcome here. Your presence makes things interesting for us as well. If not, maybe I should look to visit somewhere, too. The years can make any place boring."

  "Now that we cleared this up, is there anything else I can help you with?" When his face darkens at my dismissal, I relent slightly. "My food is getting cold."

  Chuckling, Niklas lifts himself up, and I do the same. "I forgot how exciting the thrill of the chase is when you are younger. Even feeding doesn't feel as stimulating as it used to be after so many centuries."

  "I hope never to feel that way."

  "I don't wish it on you, boy." His jab doesn't get the reaction he was expecting, so he smiles approvingly at me. "I still stand by what I said. An alliance could benefit us both. Think about it."

  "I shall."

  Niklas doesn't go to the door. Walking past me, he goes to the broken windows. "Enjoy your meal." With one last look over his shoulder, he jumps through the broken pieces and disappears in the night. We stand quiet and motionless for extended moments until we are sure he is really gone.

  "Fuck!" Marcus spits from behind me.

  April

  My whole body hurts.

  When that lightning energy, or whatever it was, pierced through my chest, every muscle in me contracted painfully. I’m not sure if that haunting scream I heard was real, or if I imagined it as a result of the pain.

  My thoughts are scattered, fleeting from one thing to the next so fast I feel dizzy, even though I think I’m laying down. Stopping mid-turn, since I was trying to roll on my back, I freeze.

  I’m lying on something so soft, it might as well be a cloud. Afraid to open my eyes from what I might see, my hands glide slightly over the thin fabric. Am I dead?

  Like that was an open invitation, pain sears through me again.

  Would I hurt if I was dead? I thought everything di
sappeared in death.

  Maybe that’s the case if you end up in Heaven. Perhaps I was in Hell? It’s not like I’ve been a good person until my death. I’ve stolen and manipulated, all to be able to stay alive.

  I haven’t killed.

  That must count for something, right? Another excruciating pain courses through my body. Yup! This is Hell alright. I don’t think God, or any angel, will allow for me to suffer like this. Or so I think anyway. My fingers keep moving slowly over the soft fabric while I breathe through the pain with my eyes tightly squeezed shut. It’ll pass, it’ll pass, I keep chanting in my mind.

  Voices float to my ears, pushing the lingering pain away. My eyes pop open, and I jerk my body up. Frenetically looking around for a monster that is ready to pounce on me, it takes me a moment to see where I am. Sitting in the middle of a very large bed, I take in my surroundings.

  The bedroom is as big as a house. Thick drapes are pulled tightly over what I’m guessing is a window. Dark, wooden furniture is placed along the walls. The bed I’m sitting on has four posters holding up a square piece of wood above my head. Blood red sheets cover it, and my fingers are twisting in them, holding on for dear life. There are three doors. One is close to the headboard of the bed, on the right. Another is on the opposite side of the window. The third is right in front of my eyes, and the voices are coming from there. Swallowing thickly, it takes me a few tries to unfreeze myself so I can move. My throat feels raw, like someone tried to strangle me but failed. Every bone and muscle hurts but I push through it and gingerly slide my feet on the floor. I still have my boots on, and that makes me happy. They sink an inch into the thick carpet covering the floor. Blues, creams, and reds create patterns on it. I would’ve marveled at its beauty if I wasn’t freaked out of my mind.

  What the hell happened? And where are the monsters that brought me here?

  Creeping slowly towards the door on my tiptoes, I try to hold my breath. My heart is jackhammering erratically in my chest, leaving me gasping silently so I don’t faint.