“Thanks, Eskra. Enjoy the story, guys.” I left and headed toward the east barracks.
Once there, I scanned each door. I passed Zach and Gina’s room, hearing the low, unintelligible hum of conversation from behind the door. A little farther down, I saw the sigil Eskra had referred to. The majority of the chipped green paint was covered in a complex design done in white paint. Sharp lines that reminded me of Viking runes flanked dots and curves that flowed like Sanskrit across the wooden surface. It was beautiful and intimidating.
I gathered my courage and knocked on the wall instead of the door. After a moment, Halla answered, wrapped in a shawl. She drew herself to her full height as she regarded me with a somewhat cold expression. Sabal hovered behind her.
Halla cleared her throat. “Sabal, go lie down. It’s your turn to feed soon. You need your strength.”
Sabal’s mouth twisted into a sour pout, but to my surprise she floated to the other side of the room and vanished from my sight. It must be good for her to have someone to tell her what to do now that her sister, Myndra, was missing. They used to do everything together. I couldn’t imagine what she must be going through. Zach and I weren’t twins, but if anything happened to him, I would probably need Halla’s kind of tough love and badgering to keep me going.
“Yes?” she asked shortly. No hello or greeting, but I hadn’t been expecting one.
“I’d like to ask you a few questions, Halla,” I said. “Are you available for a few minutes?”
Halla’s lips twitched into a scowl. “I know what questions you’re here to ask. I won’t give you any more advice if you’re just going to keep ignoring it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Dorian is making a terrible decision, not feeding just for the chance to… well.” She slowly looked me up and down in disapproval.
I forced a rude response to the back of my throat. She seemed to take my silence as a temporary victory.
“Dorian is a fool,” Halla muttered with a pitying shake of her head. “The pain will never be worth it.”
My irritation won out. “You’ve never been in love, if you honestly believe that,” I snapped.
She stiffened and fell quiet. Offended, or stricken by my response? I’d bet offended. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to regain my calm. “I’m sorry for that. I’m here because you have knowledge and experience that could help not only me, but many others. In this new world we’re heading into, who knows how many people will be affected by the same problem as Dorian and me? If we can figure out the cause and find a way to reduce or stop it, then we’ll remove another barrier between vampires and asylum.”
Her shoulders lifted. “And I’ll have you know that I loved my husband, Kane’s father, very much.” She paused for a moment, and her gaze dropped. “He was murdered by humans seeking revenge.”
I swallowed the grit in my throat. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said genuinely. “Actually, I’m sorry for a lot of things. For my words and for everything humans have done to harm vampires. I imagine you’ve lost multiple loved ones to humans.”
Halla regarded me carefully.
I steeled myself. “I know that there’s no way for me to make up for that, but I’m trying my best.” And I meant it. I didn’t bother trying to hide the exhausted frustration on my face. Let Halla see I mean it. “Truly, I am. Even in the situation with Dorian, although you may not believe that. His strategies for dealing with the curse are hard for me to prevent.” How could you stop a vampire from starving himself?
Halla simmered quietly and crossed her arms. A brittle silence passed between us. I wondered if I had lost her. She twisted her lips and sighed suddenly.
“I suppose I regret some of my actions, as well,” she confessed slowly. “In my mind, it’s hard to separate humans from the people who killed my husband. Sometimes I see them when I look at you. It’s not on purpose. I know that Kane respects you, and I should probably trust his judgment more than I have been.”
He does? I resisted jumping on that fascinating tidbit. It was nice to hear it from Halla, since she knew Kane best.
“You’ve made sacrifices for us when you didn’t have to,” the older vampire said. “I respect that.”
The agitation and unease inside me softened. I’d expected this conversation to go much worse than it actually was. Funny how anxious expectations and reality often panned out differently.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. And really, I’m worried for Dorian. I agree with you that he’s a fool for not feeding,” I said, shaking my head with a huff. “I’ve told him repeatedly that I don’t want him sacrificing his strength for me.”
Halla rolled her eyes. “Kane can display a similar stubbornness. I sympathize.” She opened the door wider and gestured for me to enter.
As I did, my eyes traced over the patterns once again.
“It’s a sigil of remembrance and protection,” she said, carefully closing the door. “I had Dorsa paint it to bring Sabal some comfort and hope about Myndra.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “I didn’t know vampires painted things like that.”
Halla raised an astute eyebrow. “There is a lot you don’t know about vampires.”
I sat on a couch similar to the one in Dorian’s room, but this one was covered in a red-and-gray tartan blanket. Sabal sat on her bed on the other side of the room, but she stared without saying anything.
“That is definitely true,” I admitted. “Which is why I have a question about vampire folklore. It seems unlikely that Dorian and I are the first couple to experience this problem. I’m ready to hear hard truths, but I need to know all the details. How do you know that I’ll die if I stay near Dorian?” I spread my hands helplessly.
Halla sat on the bed on the left side of the room, and her gaze relaxed. “I don’t know why it happens, exactly… I told you about the theory of emotional auras because that was the best explanation we had in my time. If you want to know more, I would advise you to seek out vampire scholars in the Immortal Plane.” She frowned bitterly. “If there are any left, that is. They may have all been killed by now. War doesn’t tend to favor those who hold old knowledge. I’ve heard that vast quantities of vampire relics were lost or destroyed in Vanim, our largest city. It was the one closest to the tear, which damaged much of it, and whatever was left was destroyed.” Her eyes grew pained, and she paled, the emotional toll draining her energy.
“Are there any other examples, folktales?” I pressed. “I want to learn more, but I don’t know where to look.”
“I only know the story I already told you,” Halla said listlessly, apparently too exhausted for any of her usual waspishness. “I don’t know any more about it. If I did, I would have said something.”
I swallowed the other questions I’d come up with. Apparently, there was nothing more to be gained from this conversation, other than wasting her time.
“Thank you, Halla,” I said, feeling a wave of guilt for making her relive her past during this visit. “I can let you get back to your day.”
“That would be good,” she muttered. “I could use some rest.”
I stood, and she followed me to the door. Before I could leave, however, Halla reached out to grab my arm.
“Wait,” she said. Strange. Her grip felt soft and caring now, almost like my mother’s might. “I know I’ve been harsh, but I want you to know that I meant to protect both Dorian and you. I’m a stubborn woman. I still stand by my advice that you end your relationship and try to forget each other.” She cleared her throat roughly. “I would hate to see one of you get irreversibly hurt.”
Her advice used to infuriate me, but I understood her a little better now. She still hadn’t convinced me, but I felt a surge of warmth when I looked at her. It startled me to realize that I liked this irritable, dour woman.
I rested a tentative hand on her thin shoulder. “Thank you. And if you ever want to talk with someone, just come and find me.”
She didn’t say anything but nodded before gently closing the
door.
I left the barracks. Having Halla of all people open up to me sent a strange new wave of energy through me. In the Immortal Plane, maybe we could find more information about the curse. The scholars might know something. I wanted answers. No, I needed answers, and now not just for Dorian and me.
I was halfway to the dining hall when a thought occurred to me. I stumbled to a halt.
I’d accused Halla of never being in love without realizing what that meant for me. In asking her… it was practically a confession of my own feelings.
Was I truly in love with Dorian?
Chapter Eight
Fenton’s confirmation that we’d been given approval to travel to the US to help in the Canyonlands arrived just after midnight. I found out when Zach gently shook me awake and said that we needed to pack and leave as soon as possible.
Lights shone from various windows across the camp as the other selected humans and vampires were similarly roused. In less than an hour, we were all gathered in the cold night air outside the camp’s gate. I hitched my gear bag up onto my shoulder, looking around at the assembled team. The other humans were Bryce, Roxy, Zach, Gina, and Colin. Swathed in their thick cloaks, Dorian, Kane, Laini, Bravi, Arlonne, Neo, Drinn, and Sike stood nearby. Sike’s desire to go along had surprised me. He’d volunteered with visible determination back at the VAMPS camp, though in the past he often avoided missions likely to involve combat, preferring situations that involved flying or stealth.
Two more vampires had come along, but not as combatants. Kane stood protectively by Torran and a vampire named Riven. The latter, I learned, was a scholar who looked to be in her forties. She had a willowy face framed by thin braids of brown hair on either side. Dorian no doubt hoped their superior knowledge of the Immortal Plane would come in handy.
There was a strange tension as we walked toward the helicopters that would take us to a military airfield where our plane waited to fly us out of Scotland. The airstrip was empty except for our plane, which had just landed, and the chopper at the end. A sense of loneliness stole over me, despite being among my friends and teammates. Morag solemnly waved us off, looking uncharacteristically vulnerable as she stood there in her striped robe, her feet shoved into combat boots. Bryce was the last one into the chopper, lingering to give his sister a final hug.
We landed at seven a.m. local time on an airstrip along the Colorado border after a ten-hour flight. The cool tarmac beneath me felt like stepping on a piece of home now that I was back in the States. I inhaled the dusty breeze as it struck my face. Our exhausted group of vampires and humans gathered and headed for a waiting chopper, lugging our gear bags.
Even as my head ached from lack of sleep and confusion from the time change, I felt a certain euphoria to be back in the US and finally allowed to do something useful. Assuming the government didn’t stop us first. Fenton had assured us he would work things out, but I had so much doubt now when dealing with government agencies. I half expected the chopper to whisk us all away to prison. With vampire assistance, though, that would be only a moderate inconvenience.
“Everyone’s accounted for,” Bryce muttered. He took up position at the back of the group to ensure that everyone boarded the large military helicopter.
“Where are we headed?” Zach asked, half asleep against Gina’s shoulder.
“Moab,” Bryce replied, having been the one to coordinate with the pilot. “It’s a small city outside the Canyonlands. According to Director Runyard, it’s the one most affected by the Immortal Plane tear.”
The chopper took off, limiting the conversation to what could be said over our comms.
After another hour or so, I glanced out the window. We’d crossed into Utah and the Canyonlands and were now approaching Moab. My breath caught. Beneath us, the land looked like a war zone. Giant plumes of smoke drifted upward from the smoldering remains of a fire. The pilot maneuvered us through the columns but ultimately had no choice but to dive right through the smoke.
The midmorning sun glinted off Moab, the first city to suffer in the wake of the barrier’s destruction. The first. The chilling thought made my hope melt. If Moab fell, others would be next. The Immortal tear could take out countless cities. And when the planes finally merged—utter devastation.
“We’re heading down now,” the pilot said over the internal comms. “Get ready to disembark.”
We touched down on an eastern hill that overlooked the town and scrambled out of the chopper, the already scorching sun particularly harsh because I’d acclimatized to cool Scottish days. It must be in the nineties already. I felt like I’d stepped into Hell’s oven.
A narrow concrete road wound up the steep hillside toward us from Moab. Around us were a spattering of campsites with fire pits. Camping families had probably used the sites before, but now military personnel occupied every open spot. I saw the Bureau’s symbol on a few uniforms before we approached. Trucks, tents for soldiers, and a medic station filled my view.
“Is that what I think it is?” Zach asked, pointing to something up above. In the west, closer to the Canyonlands, a swirling mass of swollen black clouds gathered in the sky. Lightning flashed across the brewing storm, bright green and purple bolts.
It had only been a few weeks since we’d last seen the tear, but the lightning we’d witnessed previously now looked tame by comparison. And the smell… I gagged. The air had a sour, acidic flavor. This place no longer felt like Earth. The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention.
I glanced at Dorian, knowing the clouds and lightning were merely the symptoms, that only vampires could see the actual tear. Did he see anything different in that sky? His paleness could have been from lack of feeding. It was hard to gauge his emotions as he looked at the pulsing rift, though we all knew that if we got what we wanted from the Bureau, Dorian’s next step involved traveling through that monstrosity in the sky.
Bryce jogged down the hill a few yards and approached the nearest group of soldiers. “My name is Nicholas Bryce. We’re expected on invitation of Director Runyard,” he shouted. “I need to talk to whoever is in command.”
The soldiers studied our chopper as it took off once more, but the tallest nodded to Bryce and took off running. Was Director Runyard here already? Or had he entrusted our mission to someone else we knew?
I surveyed our group as everyone gathered around. The human side was fueled by a restless desire to see some action. For the vampires, I imagined it was more personal—their fate on both planes depended on the results of this mission.
Sike grunted as he switched the weight of his gear bag to his stronger arm, the other obviously still slightly weaker from his gunshot wound a few weeks earlier. I’d have thought he’d stay behind, especially with Louise injured. The fact that Kane had joined us didn’t surprise me, though he claimed Dorian had dragged him into it. Nice try. He’d waited for the chance to stop the tear as impatiently as the rest of us.
The soldier from earlier came running back with Captain Clemmins behind him. Clemmins’s dark skin shone with sweat. He wore a Bureau captain’s uniform, but dirt and streaks of dried mud marred the fabric. Bryce stuck out his hand. Clemmins clapped a broad, scarred hand into it and gave it a healthy shake.
“Good to see you, Bryce,” he said with a grateful nod. His curly black hair, though cropped short, looked like he’d been running his hands through it in frustration. It also contained more gray than I remembered from our last meeting.
“Let’s head over to command.” He led us down the hill and through the bustling encampment into a large tent.
It was interesting to see the Bureau’s supplies in a new light after getting used to the Scottish camo and color. They were using the latest improved desert pattern from the Bureau line of technology, darker browns and tan to blend into the scenery. They’d organized the tent around a table with a screen built into it, currently showing a digital map of Moab. Splotches of transparent red covered much of the city graphic.
“Po
ints of contact with our enemies,” Clemmins said and tapped the screen. The red disappeared. “This was our situation two nights ago, before all this happened. Nothing. The first night.” The screen popped up with red, slightly less than before. “And the second night.” The original amount appeared, staining the city.
I cocked my head. “What was it that came through?”
Clemmins waved over a soldier. The soldier picked up a cooler, the kind you would use to tote cans of soda to soccer practice. He opened it for us.
An egg-shaped rock sat in the cooler. I squinted, stooping closer. The rock was about a foot long with several grooves running across it, as if some grand creator had formed it from interlocking pieces of futuristic armor.
Roxy huffed a laugh. “You’re getting your asses kicked by rocks?”
Clemmins flared his nostrils. “You’re independent contractors here, but you were Bureau soldiers not so long ago, so I’ll give you this reminder only once,” he said tightly. “While you’re not technically part of my troops, you will still treat superior officers with respect. No swearing in my tent.”
Roxy quieted and dropped her eyes to the stone in embarrassment. I felt a twinge of sympathy. I might have made the same mistake without thinking. After all, we’d become used to a loose command structure among our group of rebels and vampires, because we’d created the arrangement ourselves. Things had been similarly informal at the VAMPS camp. Our old roles in the Bureau might not fit as comfortably as they used to.
Clemmins pressed on calmly. “These rocks are actually creatures. They curl up like this at sunrise and stay that way until dark. Last night, these were stony creatures that looked like insects, one and a half feet long. They eat everything in sight and can fly for short distances.”
Darklight 3: Darkworld Page 9
