The Vampire's Bond 3

by Samantha Snow

  It would work out. And if it didn’t…well, she would handle that later.

  He sat calmly, eyes bright and curious as Siobhan knelt in front of him. He hardly even blinked when she buried her face against his neck; it was nothing out of the ordinary. It was only as her fangs broke through his skin that he whined and began to squirm in her hold. Carefully, she tightened her hold on him, using one arm to hold him as she bit into her opposite wrist.

  She had to hold her bleeding wrist to his neck, mashing it against the bite she had given him. She wasn’t even sure that would work until he started whining, high-pitched and fitful. She wrapped her arms around him, scratched his ears, and cooed nonsense to him. Hesitantly, his tail gave a slow wag.

  When he went limp in her arms with a last, bitten-off whine, it felt as if he was dying on her. Siobhan buried her face against the top of his head for a moment before she picked him up, cradling him carefully, as if he were an infant.

  When she got back to the manor, Jack was waiting in the kitchen, watching her curiously. Curiosity soon changed to disbelief and then to incredulity as he looked at Barton and put the pieces together.

  “No lecturing,” Siobhan cautioned quietly, adjusting her hold on her dog. “Not right now. I know exactly what you’re going to say, and I’ve already thought about it. There’s nothing to change it now.”

  Slowly, Jack sighed out a breath, holding his hands up as if in surrender. “Alright,” he agreed quietly. “…Alright.” He turned aside to let her pass, letting her carry Barton up to their room in peace.

  *

  Siobhan got a lecture, regardless, not from Jack but from Regina. It was a very short lecture, though. Just a piercing stare, and a quiet, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  She sounded disappointed. That hurt more than Siobhan expected it to.

  *

  For the twenty-seven hours that Barton slept, Siobhan watched him like a hawk, waiting for him to wake up.

  When at last Barton began to stir, Siobhan hurried to the kitchen to grab a bowl and a bag of blood. She ripped open the bag and poured it into the bowl as she headed back up the stairs. By the time she was back in her room, Barton was slowly lifting his head. He blinked at her with unnerving red and black eyes. His tail wagged slowly across the floor a few times before he scented the air carefully.

  His canine teeth had lengthened enough that they didn’t fully fit in his mouth, the tips of them just visible poking out from under his lips. He licked his teeth and slowly got to his feet, taking a careful step forwards.

  “Leave it,” Siobhan cautioned, her voice low. “No eating.”

  Reluctantly, Barton came to a halt. He cocked his head to one side and licked his lips once more, watching Siobhan with eyes that seemed unwontedly intelligent. He edged forward a step, though he came to a halt once again as she repeated, “No eating.”

  He sat down, scooting forward fitfully as Siobhan set the bowl down.

  “No eating,” she repeated once again.

  Barton’s ears flattened back against his head, and he whined, but he stayed where he was sitting.

  “Eat up,” Siobhan finally told him.

  He surged to his feet and darted forward, throwing his muzzle into the bowl so quickly that he very nearly knocked it over. He licked it clean, lapping every drop out of it, and then he spent a few moments making sure the bowl was perfectly empty before he shoved the empty bowl away with his nose.

  When he looked up again, the red of his eyes was paling, gradually fading back to his typical gold. Siobhan reached out to scratch beneath his chin with two fingers.

  “Good boy,” she cooed quietly, and his tail thumped against the floor.

  *

  “A vampire dog.” Jack shook his head disbelievingly. “You turned Barton.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Why? You weren’t really clear on that before.”

  “He can track angels,” Siobhan answered simply, working her fingers into the fur behind one of Barton’s ears. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, and his eyes slowly drifted closed.

  “You’re sure—”

  “I can handle him,” Siobhan stated simply, cutting Jack off. “Don’t worry.”

  Slowly, Jack nodded. “If you’re sure,” he returned. “You’re sure he can track angels, though?”

  “Gabriel can get us close,” Siobhan replied, shrugging one shoulder. “Barton can get us the rest of the way. I know it.”

  *

  “A vampire dog,” Gabriel observed, crouching down to let the mutt sniff at him vigorously.

  “No stranger than a vampire angel,” Siobhan pointed out, one eyebrow arching.

  “Strangely enough, both are your doing,” Gabriel mused dryly. He sat back with a huff so Barton could bodily clamber into his lap to bury his nose against the side of the archangel’s neck.

  Siobhan stuck her tongue out at him, and she couldn’t quite hold back a laugh when Barton used his newly acquired vampiric strength to nudge Gabriel off-balance and bowl him over onto his back.

  *

  The Vampire Lords were cautious as they observed Barton, though the caution seemed rather unwonted when, at that moment, all he was doing was crunching his way through a bone as if it was made of balsa. It was hard to deny that there was curiosity there, too, though. Both from the Lords and from Barton, as he glanced up from his bone to watch them periodically.

  “You’re insane,” Allambee informed Siobhan, his tone less pleasant than it typically was. “He’s a dog; he doesn’t have the reasoning power of a human. What happens if he decides he’s hungry and just goes after the closest person?”

  “It’s called training,” Siobhan informed him blandly, irritation overruling her manners. “I can handle him, and we need him.”

  “Do you expect him to actually recognize his own strength?” Osamu asked pointedly. “Frequently, a regular fledgling has issues adjusting to it. How do you—“

  “How do I expect a dog to recognize that? Yeah, I know.” Siobhan folded her arms and sighed out a breath, forcing her shoulders to relax as Barton whined and looked up at her. “He already had a concept of minding his own strength,” she pointed out. “When I was still a normal human, he was stronger than me. But he never hurt me. If he could keep himself in check back then, I’m pretty sure he can learn to adjust now.” She paused for a moment before she added slowly, “Especially since I think the change made him smarter. Something about him is different, at least.”

  There was silence for a drawn-out moment, and then it was Harendra who stated, “We will see if this works out. But if you cannot control him, then one of us will deal with him. Do you understand?”

  Siobhan ducked her head and nodded tightly. “Understood,” she returned quietly.

  “Then you’re dismissed,” Regina informed her, flicking one hand dismissively towards the door.

  Siobhan clicked her tongue as she turned back towards the door to the stairs. Barton snapped down the last of the bone, hauled himself to his feet, and trotted out of the room behind her.

  Everything was always complicated, wasn’t it? One day, everything would calm down for a while, and Siobhan wasn’t even going to know what to do with herself when that happened.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “So, has your speed increased at all?” Siobhan wondered, splayed out on her back on the balcony. It wasn’t necessarily their practice space anymore, but it was a decent place to relax. As it turned out, the Lords’ Floor was a lot less worrisome once they realized that the Lords were very rarely ever actually on that floor. No one else seemed to have realized it yet, so they were only rarely disturbed.

  “Not that I’ve noticed,” Gabriel returned, perching on the balcony’s railing like some sort of overgrown gargoyle.

  “Would you even notice?” Jack wondered, arching one eyebrow. “You weren’t exactly slow to begin with.”

  Gabriel shrugged in a conceding manner, as if to silently say ‘a fair point.’

  “What about
strength?” Siobhan wondered, propping herself up on her elbows. “How much has that increased?”

  “How exactly am I supposed to quantify that?” Gabriel wondered dryly. “Is there a scale I’m supposed to use?” At Siobhan’s less-than-impressed scowl, he added, “It’s increased enough that I can kick your ass without trying, as you pointed out.”

  Siobhan stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry at him before flopping back down onto her back.

  “Do you even get anything out of those sparring sessions?” Jack wondered wryly. “Or is it more like playing with a pet you don’t want to hurt?”

  “Not a pet,” Gabriel protested. “More like a pack of delicate gremlins.” He made an attempt at looking innocent. He did not succeed. Jack threw a shoe at him, only to pout when Gabriel simply ducked and his shoe tumbled down to the ground below.

  There was a beat of silence, and then Gabriel pointed out, “I’m not sure what you were expecting to happen there.”

  The second shoe at least managed to clip one of Gabriel’s wings before it joined its partner in the grass below. Gabriel folded his wings in tightly to his back and turned away, making a show out of ignoring Jack from that point onwards until he forgot that was what he was doing two minutes later.

  *

  “So, I’m taking bets now.” Siobhan dropped down onto the bed with enough force that Jack bounced and nearly dropped his book. He pouted at her over the top edge of it, which Siobhan cheerfully ignored.

  She stared at him expectantly until, finally, he relented and asked, “Taking bets on what?”

  “How long it will take me to snap and murder someone,” she returned pleasantly. As Jack slowly arched one eyebrow at her, she added, “Headache-induced rage. It’s a thing. Or at least, everyone else seems to think it’s a thing, so I’ve decided to make it a lucrative thing. I’m taking bets.”

  “I don’t think you can take bets on yourself,” Jack pointed out reasonably. “You could just decide to hold off on your murderous rampage until it would get you the most money.”

  Siobhan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “While I’m glad you think I’m that conniving, I said I’d snap and murder someone, not multiple people. Why do you have to jump straight to me being a serial killer?” She folded her arms and straddled him so she could scowl at him over the top of his book. “That’s rude.”

  “You’re ambitious,” he returned, shrugging one shoulder. “I have faith in you.”

  Siobhan rolled her eyes and shoved his book towards his chest with two fingers against its spine. “You’re an ass,” she informed him plainly. “Did you know that?”

  “Well, I do now. Thanks. Self-reflection is an important skill to have.” He made a half-hearted effort at lifting his book back to where he was originally holding it. “If the headaches are getting that bad, maybe take a break for a few days?” he suggested. “You’ve already proven you can manage. I don’t think you’re going to forget how if you take two days off.”

  “Probably not,” she conceded with a sigh, squashing his book against his chest as she flopped forward against him, her chin leaning against the book’s back cover. “But I just want to stay at the top of my game, I guess.”

  “Shocker,” Jack deadpanned in return, and he snorted out a laugh when Siobhan reached up to flick the tip of his nose.

  “Rude,” she repeated. “I’m taking a nap now.” She began to shift to get comfortable, informing him, “So are you,” just before she closed her eyes.

  Well, there were definitely worse ways to spend an afternoon, even if he hadn’t quite been planning on it. Carefully, he wiggled his book out from under her, closed it, and set it aside.

  He had known her long enough to know that, if he left his book there, it would not only be flattened but also covered in drool. No thanks.

  He couldn’t even be surprised when Barton hopped up onto the bed with them about twelve minutes later. The mutt didn’t seem to have ever gotten the memo that he didn’t need much sleep anymore.

  *

  “There’s an angel on the attack…somewhere,” Gabriel observed quietly, his voice so sudden that Siobhan nearly fell off of the bed as she looked up at him. He was leaning in the bedroom doorway.

  She blinked slowly and stood up. “How can you tell?” she wondered, running a hand through her hair and rubbing the back of her neck.

  He knuckled at his temple with two fingers. “It got louder.”

  “You can get us within a general area?” she asked, and she waited just long enough to get a nod in return. With a sigh, Siobhan slumped towards the door. “I’ll go grab the boyfriend and the dog.”

  *

  “Leave it!” Siobhan’s voice rang out clear and crisp and loud nearly the instant they arrived in the general area of the angel attack. Barton, midway through taking a step towards the nearest person, ground to a halt. Turning his head, he blinked up at Siobhan, his head cocked to one side. “No eating,” she added, her hands on her hips. Barton heaved a great sigh, like the most world-weary of creatures to have ever existed.

  The hapless bystander didn’t even seem to notice, as he was very busy running in the opposite direction as more people screamed in the distance.

  Siobhan didn’t know what the town’s name was or even the particulars of where it was, other than ‘someplace reasonably warm.’ She didn’t care particularly much about any of that for the moment. What she cared about was getting to where the shouting was. Everything looked reasonably calm from where they were, but the distant screaming rather belied that initial appearance.

  Gabriel crouched down in front of Barton and held a hand out. Barton buried his nose in Gabriel’s palm, waited until he got a scratch behind the ears, and then began snuffling at him vigorously. The mutt pranced backwards a few steps, sneezed twice, and then whirled on his hind legs and took off down the sidewalk like he had been launched out of a slingshot. Gabriel followed easily, leaving Jack and Siobhan to bolt after them like a pair of startled jackrabbits.

  It wasn’t long before they stumbled upon the angel in question. Barton jigged back and forth on his front paws on the ground beneath her, barking uproariously as Gabriel rose into the air to meet her.

  They were on a residential street then. A tree had been uprooted and thrown as if to play the most aggressive game of fetch ever played, and a series of streetlights were downed along both sides of the street, sparking through shorn metal. Half of the cars on the street had been flipped upside down and tossed aside, and every house had broken windows. A fair number of them had more extreme damage than that. There was even smoke pouring out of a break in one house’s roof. There was blood dripping off of the porch, through the open doorway, and Siobhan could only assume the archangel had simply smashed into the house and wrecked everything in sight. Siobhan’s thoughts darted back to Chambersburg for a moment before she dragged herself back to the present moment. This was different. She could actually help here.

  The street was eerily silent, though. Most of the sounds of people were fading into the distance. Everyone—or nearly everyone, at least, as she had no doubts that at least a few people were still hiding in their homes—had fled to escape the rampage. That was a relief. She was never going to argue with there being fewer people around to hurt.

  There was a sound of feathers in the air.

  Siobhan spared a glance upward, and then did a double take as she realized the archangel above them was Anael. But she shook her head quickly, ignoring it for the moment. Instead, she sat down, right there on the sidewalk. As she closed her eyes and began to focus, Barton planted himself in front of her, and Jack readied himself for whatever was going to happen next.

  Already, the signal was louder, now that it was reaching an angel it could actually have an impact on. It took Siobhan only a moment to be able to hear it loud and clear.

  After that, though, things began to get complicated.

  Not only was the signal louder, but it was also stronger. The Metatron could tell that someone
was trying to disrupt his broadcast, and he was rather displeased about that. Pain lanced through Siobhan’s head as the signal increased, and she could hear herself whining like a small child. Fingers stroked through her hair, and she leaned into Jack’s hand for a moment before returning her attention to the task at hand.

  Of course, it wasn’t simply as easy as deciding she had to get serious. She had sparred with the others, true enough, but there had been no real sense of danger then. They weren’t going to hurt her. Before she made it to the point of joining the sparring sessions, they hadn’t even touched her.

  Anael—or the Metatron puppeteering Anael’s body—had no such compunctions.