Eternity's Awakening

by Anne Malcom

  “I’m not here to engage in your nonsense,” he said, pointedly ignoring Thorne as he poured himself a drink.

  “Well you’re obviously not here to repair the family unit,” I replied, wandering over to Thorne. I winked at him.

  He did not wink back.

  The guy was always so tense these days. And he was only going to get more tense without even being able to fuck his anger into me.

  I scowled at the thought. That was the best part of my morning. And afternoon. And night. Because since I hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the whole ‘web of lies that fucked up my entire belief system on the origin of our race’ thing, I utilized sex to fuck my own anger into him.

  Now that I didn’t have that, I was worried that I was going to use real anger and then we’d have a fight, I’d say things that I really meant and maybe I few I didn’t, and it would become a whole big thing.

  I glanced down to my phone.

  Me: Get your pert witchy ass back from Mexico and get that birth control potion/spell/interpretive dance over here ASAP. I don’t like the fate of the human race if you don’t.

  Because Sophie always had her phone on her, to check up on the cameras she’d set up in the office to make sure the witch hadn’t killed Duncan, and also to keep up with the latest president’s tweets, the typing icon came up seconds after I sent the message.

  Sophie: Dude, I only just got to Mexico. Remember that self-control thing we talked about?

  Sophie: Wait, I just remembered who I’m talking to. You have less control than a fat kid in front of a dessert table. I’ll make it my main priority. Though I would like to see you eliminating the human race instead of these asinine rebels. You’d make the apocalypse so much classier.

  I grinned, glancing up from my phone to witness yet another macho man stare-off. It was getting so bad that I didn’t even find them hot anymore.

  Maybe if they were both naked and covered in KY Jelly.

  Now? Not so much.

  “Okay, so if you’re not here to bestow some kind of blessing or award on me—one I really deserve, by the way—why are you here?” I asked the king.

  My almost brother-in-law.

  The man I very almost lusted after. Before Thorne, of course. Okay, a little after, but he was lust-worthy.

  And I barely lusted after him now.

  He was the complete opposite of Thorne. Not just because Rick was a vampire and Thorne was not. But you never would’ve guessed the fact that they were brothers, even without the whole ‘being a different species’ thing. Where Thorne was rough, immensely muscled, wild, and darkly sexy, Rick was polished, always in a suit, always clean-shaven, groomed, muscled, and also still wildly sexy too.

  Where Thorne wore his fury on his face, in his eyes and in every inch of his body, usually with a raised roar, Rick carefully schooled his features, and his voice didn’t rise an octave when he was downright murderous.

  The only time you knew he was murderous was when, well, he started murdering people.

  He moved his eyes from Thorne to me, obviously about to speak, most likely scold, but before he could, there was a small movement from the hallway.

  Rick’s eyes immediately snapped to where the mute human was lingering in the doorway.

  She scrubbed up pretty well with all the new clothes I’d given her. Though she didn’t let me put makeup on her or do her hair, which kind of pissed me off. I’d never had a doll as a child—unless you counted the mangled corpses my brothers would leave at the end of my bed—and now I had a human version, and she didn’t even speak, one of the most annoying things humans did. But she was not into makeovers, or human—or vampire—contact. She spent a lot of time in either her room or the library. I didn’t even know if she ate. Then again, she wasn’t dead, so she’d probably been eating.

  Thorne usually stocked the refrigerator, and he’d been making sure it was doubly full since the human arrived, so I didn’t pay attention to such boring things like her eating habits or continued survival. I had stuff going on.

  She looked like she’d put on the beef since arriving from her prison in a cave in Albania. I wasn’t being a bitch and saying she’d gotten fat—I’d definitely point it out if that were the case—but she’d been skeletal when we’d taken her out from the clutches of the witches. It was obvious she was meant to be naturally curvy, like Marilyn Monroe, but with longer hair and without the sexy voice.

  Without any voice.

  I wondered if some pesky sea witch had taken it from her, and she was actually a mermaid who’d paid for legs with her voice.

  That would be so cool.

  But since she had taken up residence in Casa Isla, we had barely encountered each other. Mainly because I was out trying not to get myself killed while I killed others, and also because I didn’t really want to hang out with her. Not until she did something interesting, anyway.

  Rick was gazing at her like she’d just sung him, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President.”

  I grinned, finally getting something interesting out of this whole debacle. Well, something interesting that wasn’t my human husband coming back from the dead. “Oh, that’s why you’re here,” I teased, reading the energy in the room. Rick’s entire body changed with the appearance of the human, somehow softened and hardened at the same time.

  Not unlike how Thorne was with me.

  And here I’d just been thinking about the king’s lack of emotion, when all we needed was a mute, beautiful, and most likely severely fucked-up little human.

  His eyes snapped back to me, whatever spark of intensity that had been radiating from them shuttered. He was the cold king once more.

  “Have you seen the news?” he snapped, voice flat, dismissive of the human who was still staring at him with an inscrutable expression.

  I winked at her, then turned to focus on Rick. “I don’t watch the news. Too depressing.”

  He gave me a look. Disappointment, likely. It was his default with me now that it wasn’t lust. I wasn’t sure if it was because I knew he was Thorne’s brother or because of the human in the doorway.

  I rolled my eyes. “Um, I have Instagram. It’s close enough.”

  The king didn’t say anything, just strode over to my coffee table, snatched the remote and turned on my television.

  With the click of a few buttons, he was on CNN. I didn’t even know I got that channel.

  “Really?” I asked, my eyes on Rick and then on the human who was watching him raptly, but with a strange edge that I really hoped was insanity. “You came all the way over here, in the middle of what I’m sure are horribly important kingly duties, in order to force me to watch insipid human news? How about I give you the rundown?” I folded my arms, refusing to look at the screen and instead glare at Rick. “Some president bombed some third-world country that was conveniently involved in human rights violations right at the same time some oil refinery struck gold. Some politician fucked someone they shouldn’t have. A plane crashed somewhere. A lot of death. Suffering. And then it will most likely end on a cute puppy story.”

  Rick didn’t answer. The woman living inside the television did.

  “This video has been circulating on worldwide news stations for some time now.” The carefully perfected television voice shook slightly, so it got my attention. The coiffed and airbrushed bimbo looked slightly uneasy. So did her fellow anchor, Ken—or at the very least his extremely lifelike brother.

  “We have no verifications yet as to whether these images have been tampered with,” she continued, “but with multiple sources recording the same….” She seemed lost for words before she cleared her throat. “We do advise that if you have young children, turn them from the screen. This may be… distressing.”

  I glanced to Rick, quirking my brow. “Close your eyes. You might get distressed.”

  He ignored me, eyes on the screen.

  Even Thorne’s were, and I would’ve thought he would’ve refused to watch merely on the principle that Rick wanted h
im to.

  Screams and “Oh my Gods” filtered through the television.

  Obviously, that got my attention.

  And then so did the vampire hybrids ripping through a busy food court at some mall. The fluorescent lighting in those places was never forgiving—then again, mall people didn’t have much to work with in the first place—so it was painfully apparent that these things weren’t human. That and the fact that they were zipping around the screaming crowd in a blur, ripping people’s throats out was also a dead giveaway.

  The camera shook as the person behind it started to run, dodging the prone, bleeding, screaming bodies as he did so. “Holy shit, it’s the zombies. They’ve come!” he shouted.

  “What an idiot,” I muttered. “He doesn’t even know the difference between zombies and vampires.”

  Then again, these hybrids were closer to mindless zombies than the magnificent vampire race. Or at least the one magnificent vampire within the race.

  Similar jerky scenes from different amateur journalists flashed over the screen before the camera cut back to the studio.

  “We’ve yet to get an official statement from local law enforcement as to what… who is responsible for this,” Barbie said, her face pale, even underneath the pounds of makeup she had on. “There have been speculations that this incident is due to a new street drug,” she continued, obviously not convincing herself, let alone whoever watched the news anymore.

  The man finally piped up, jerking himself out of whatever stupor he’d been in. Typical, leaving it to the woman to hold it together while he lost it. Really, how humans thought they were the strongest species for thousands of years baffled me. “We have the death toll at fifteen so far, and I’m afraid this number may rise,” he said, voice thick. “Our prayers are with the families, and we will be giving round-the-clock updates as soon as more information becomes available.”

  I glanced down at my phone and called Sophie as they began to speculate about who was responsible and show some boring clips about the people murdered and their sobbing families.

  “Isla, it’s been two minutes since you’ve texted me,” she answered, people yelling in Spanish around her. “Even for you, that’s bad.”

  “No, this is not about that,” I hissed, watching as they played yet another replay, as they did in times like this in order to saturate people with suffering so it didn’t seem so serious anymore and they could go back to their lives, forgetting about it all again. “You’re in a bar, I’m guessing?”

  “Dude, how did you know that?” Sophie shot back.

  “I know you,” I replied. “Now, put down your margarita and put on the news. Stay on the phone.”

  There was an increase in noise as she did so, muttering in Spanish to the bartender to change the channel.

  “Holy fuck,” she said into the phone.

  “Yeah,” I agreed, then lowered my phone and pressed the Speaker button. “You’re on speaker now, so you don’t feel left out when the males no doubt yell.”

  Both males glared at me, then turned their attention back to the TV.

  “Awesome,” Sophie whispered, though her voice was a little flat.

  To be fair, this was shocking. Nothing this public had occurred since… forever.

  The woman on television cleared her voice. “We’re just getting some new footage that….” She listened to her earpiece. “Again, this is disturbing and we’re hoping this a hoax, a copycat from what’s happened today.” She swallowed visibly. “Again, if you have young children, please avert their eyes.”

  “Rick probably needs to avert his eyes,” Sophie said.

  I grinned at how in sync we were, but then my grin failed me when a familiar face took over the screen. It looked like a video uploaded from YouTube.

  “We have existed in the shadows long enough,” he started.

  My stomach turned at the ancient and malevolent tone coming out of something as modern as a television. It didn’t jive. But there he was, in front of a camera, with terrible lighting showing every inch of his crinkled and chalky translucent skin.

  Blood dripped off his fangs as he discarded the female he’d just drained like she was an empty Coke can.

  “You humans have gone about your pathetic and mundane lives in ignorance, thinking you have a place at the top of the food chain,” Ambrogio continued. “Causing wars, death, damage to the planet that even the strongest of immortals wouldn’t do. You are destroying yourselves. It was a point of entertainment for a lot of my kind, as I have become aware. Not I, though, as I did not trouble myself with this destruction. I wanted to die in peace, but that cannot happen until this wretched world dies in chaos. And you will do so. We are your masters, and you will bow down to us.”

  The screen zoomed in on his skin, on the blood, on his fangs while the silence following his words hung in the air, roared through the screen.

  Then it went black.

  “Okay, did everyone else just see that?” I asked, blinking rapidly as the feed went back to the shell-shocked anchors talking about stunts and special effects. “Like, I didn’t hallucinate or anything again, right? Those mushrooms were mild, and I took them ages ago,” I continued.

  My words were met with stunned silence.

  Stunned silence in a room full of immortals was something in itself.

  Even Sophie was silent on the other end of the phone.

  “Just to clarify, what I saw was the original vampire, created by pagan gods—one of whom may or may not be the devil himself—on YouTube like he was Jaclyn Hill or Jenna Marbles or something. But one who does not have the same charisma or contouring skills.”

  More silence.

  I was starting to get uncomfortable. I didn’t get uncomfortable. Apart from that time I wore that latex dress and didn’t put enough baby powder and lube on underneath it.

  “Okay, I need to be clear on what’s going to happen if I kill this guy,” I said. “Is the whole world going to go Twilight Zone and every vampire on the planet drop really dead because their original father has died?” I screwed up my nose. “I’m sure that was what happened on the Buffy episode.”

  Sophie chose then to chime in. “It was Vampire Diaries,” she corrected. “And that would be kickass awesome, apart from you dying too, obviously.”

  I nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see it.

  “But no, that’s kind of biologically impossible,” she continued.

  I raised my brow, glancing to Thorne. He wasn’t exactly looking all relaxed. “That’s biologically impossible?”

  “Nature’s gotta draw the line somewhere,” Sophie replied.

  “I wish she drew the line past unicorns,” I said. “I feel like I would’ve looked so fucking awesome riding a unicorn.”

  “I’ll get you a horse and charm a sword to the front of its head,” Sophie said, smile in her voice.

  I lit up. “Promise?”

  “First we need to figure out how to combat this.”

  I chewed my lip. “Yeah, we kind of do. They’re not even fighting war the fun way anymore, with death and blood and battle. They’re using the internet.” I scowled at the TV. It was the devil, technology. Well, apart from its ability to let me go shoe shopping without putting on pants and for being able to judge celebrities who left the house not wearing makeup. “That’s just—”

  “Smart,” Rick finished for me. “It’s fucking smart. They’re being political. They’re using the tools of a desensitized and idiotic generation who are only a couple more lost brain cells away from being mindless drones anyway.”

  Fury leaked from his voice like gas from a hillbilly’s gas tank.

  “Okay, calm down,” I said. “We’re not going to get anywhere by getting all mental.” I eyed him. “It’s going to be entertaining, but not effective.”

  “Speaking of effective, my guy is here. I’ve got to go shopping for ingredients,” Sophie said. “Make sure no one dies while I’m gone.”

  Then she hung up.

 
The anchors had stopped playing the clips on repeat. The segment was obviously up.

  The blank-faced anchors were silent for a moment, their masks slipping to show their true unease before the female recovered first. Of course she did. Females always recovered first. That was how we rolled.

  “And now we’re going to meet Scout, the puppy that saved his owner’s life in the most adorable way—”

  The screen went blank.

  “Hey!” I protested. “I wanted to see Scout’s adorable lifesaving thing.”

  Rick glared at me. “You’re aware of how serious this is?”

  I raised my brow. “I’m rarely aware of how serious anything is. It’s a drag thinking about things like that. I prefer puppies,” I said honestly.

  Granted, the scene at the mall was fucked up, and me saying that meant something. It was also going to bring a whole lot of heat. But it had happened and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Plus, I didn’t want to do anything about it. PR wasn’t exactly my thing. That was the Sector’s job.

  I grinned inwardly at the thought of Sweater Set and what an absolute shitstorm this would be for her.

  Rick tried to dart forward, fire in his eyes. I guessed he intended on shaking some sense into me. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

  But it was the first time that Thorne was here to witness it, because he had the lapels of Rick’s custom blazer in his fisted hands before I could even attempt to break something on the king. Or rip something off.

  I was both happy and pissed at this turn of events.

  “You talk to Isla, you do it with your fucking words, not your fuckin’ hands,” Thorne hissed, all up in Rick’s face like he was going to kiss him or something. It had been hot before, but now I knew they were brothers and it was technically incest, so… hell, who was I kidding? It was still hot.

  “No, please don’t listen to my overprotective boyfriend, otherwise known as your brother,” I interjected with a bite to my voice. “I always prefer to speak in violence rather than words.”