Blurred Nights (1st in the Blurred Trilogy)

by Kallysten

  "Blake, keep it up, and I'm taking the wheel."

  He threw an annoyed glance in Marc's direction; he could always trust his Sire to ruin his fun. He couldn't see Marc's face with Kate between them, but the annoyed look she gave him made it clear that she had figured out his little game as well. Grinning impishly, he shrugged and returned his attention to the road. He could see faint glowing spots indicating buildings in the distance, camouflaged by the fog.

  "Is that it?” he asked, non-plussed.

  The way Daniel had talked of his home base, Blake had imagined something more elaborate than the three warehouse-like buildings he discovered at the end of the trail. They were behind three successive barbed wire fences at least twelve feet tall. They wouldn't stop demons if they truly wanted to get in, but they might slow them down enough to give the humans a chance to run.

  Armed guards pulled the gate open to let the car in after recognizing the passengers, and closed it again once Blake had driven through. More armed fighters approached when the humans extricated themselves from the back. Blake remained behind the wheel until Marc, who had stepped out to let Kate pass, leaned back in to throw him an annoyed glance.

  "Shouldn't we get out of here before sunrise gets any closer?” Blake asked him when he got out of the car.

  Standing by the open door, he kept a foot on the edge of the vehicle and rested his arms over the roof. On the other side of the car, Marc started saying something, but Daniel quickly interrupted him.

  "I'm afraid I can't allow you to leave."

  Daniel watched as two medics took away his wounded soldier, but he shrugged off the attentions of a third one despite his bleeding thigh. Standing in front of the car, he turned his eyes to Blake then Marc. He didn't draw the sword he had pulled from the trunk, but the way his hand came to rest on the hilt was ominous. Blake felt uncomfortably aware that he didn't wear his own weapon. Marc took a step forward, stopping at once when Kate, at Daniel's side, raised her crossbow.

  "We've helped you and yours,” he pointed out, his voice as tight as a bowstring.

  "You did,” Daniel said with a nod. “But for all we know, it was only a ploy to get us to trust you."

  "Why in hell—"

  Daniel didn't let Blake finish. “We know vamps have been working with demons. Nothing personal, but we've got to check you. This way."

  He pointed toward the closest building.

  "Check us?” Marc repeated. “What does that mean?"

  "It means that you'd better not have killed humans recently,” Kate answered.

  She steadied her crossbow in the direction of Marc's chest. Behind him, Blake could hear steps on the gravel, and he had a feeling he was being targeted the same way. His eyes met Marc's over the hood of the car. His Sire's dark brown eyes held a warning that Blake knew only too well.

  Don't do anything stupid now.

  Swallowing a sigh, he closed the door and walked over to Marc.

  "Told you we shouldn't have helped them in the first place,” he murmured as they advanced toward the building, following Daniel's lead.

  "We'll clear this up in a moment,” Marc replied, louder than Blake. “And I expect our new friends will apologize when they realize their mistake."

  Blake didn't care about apologies, not any more than he cared about threats. If it had been up to him, he'd have seized Daniel already, and used him as a hostage to get out of this cursed camp. He was very aware, however, of Kate's presence behind him and Marc, and in his mind her weapon was pointed at Marc. He had no problem risking his own life if he thought the payoff was worth it, but putting his Sire in danger was entirely different.

  As Daniel entered the building, he knew enough to turn back and utter an invitation for both Marc and Blake. He let them pass him, leaving Kate to lead them onward until they were standing a dozen yards inside.

  "Elliot, get Simon,” Daniel said to a short but hulking man behind them. “Tell him to grab his stuff. Kate, have them sit down. Wally, back her up."

  Elliot threw a mistrustful glare at Blake and Mark. He slid the strap of his crossbow over his head and shoulder before walking out through the main door.

  They had entered through a door on the long side of the building and into a large open room, maybe thirty yards by fifty with metal beams supporting the roof fifteen or twenty feet above the concrete floor. The building seemed to have been a warehouse in the past. A cursory glance revealed three doors on the right and left, but they didn't appear to lead outside. Blake grimaced. It was always a good idea to have several ways out when you dealt with demons. Straight ahead, behind a few tables, a stretch of wall was covered with various weapons. They were swords for the most part, but there were also a handful of axes and a few crossbows. Several round practice targets were piled up on the floor.

  "Straight ahead,” Kate said shortly. “Sit down."

  Blake gritted his teeth as he obeyed. He didn't appreciate being ordered around, especially by humans. Marc had to be starting to lose his patience too by now.

  There were five wooden tables set near the back wall, each with eight chairs around them. The lingering scent of food hinted that this was where the humans took their meals. Blake wondered if there were enough of them to fill up all five tables. Rather than sitting on a chair, Blake hopped onto the middle table and sat down with his legs crossed. He looked straight at Kate as he did, and while she raised an eyebrow at him, the barely there smile that pulled at her lips said she was amused more than annoyed. The other guard was a few feet to her side, his crossbow a little less steady than hers. Next to the table, Marc pulled a chair and turned it around to straddle it.

  "So how will you figure out if we kill humans or not?” Marc asked.

  He had addressed Kate, but it was Daniel who answered as he grabbed a chair and sat near Kate. He was limping heavily now.

  "Magic,” he said with a sigh. “Fast and harmless. If it says you're clear, you'll have my apologies and a safe place to wait for nightfall. If you've killed..."

  The meaning of his shrug was clear enough.

  For a few seconds, silence stretched between the five of them. Blake quickly grew bored.

  "You said vamps have been working with demons,” he said, looking closely at Daniel. “You know it for a fact or is that just another rumor?"

  For decades now, rumors about demons had spread like wildfire around the world, one of them disproved only to be replaced by a new one, each one as strange as the last. The most persistent alleged that anyone killed by demons came back as one of them the next night, much like vampires being sired. That rumor returned like clockwork every few years, but lately it was being surpassed by the claim that vampires were working side by side with demons. For vampires like Blake and Marc, who risked their lives just about every night fighting, it was the most upsetting of all.

  "I haven't seen it firsthand,” Daniel answered. He grimaced as he stretched out his injured leg in front of him. “But my sources are trustworthy. Vampires have been spotted fighting alongside demons at two different sites in the state."

  "Where?” Marc jumped in.

  The single word held enough tension that Blake looked at him, wondering what troubled his Sire so. It was just another rumor. Daniel seemed to have noticed the change of mood as well, but he didn't get a chance to answer.

  Simon, the mage who had made a ball of light in the ruins, the man Daniel had ordered to perform protective magic while they were under attack but, strangely enough, not before, had entered the building. He was accompanied by Elliot, the soldier Daniel had sent to get him. Simon still reeked of fear, but the scent was stale, a remnant of his time on demons’ grounds. He had to feel safe here. Clearly, he didn't realize how vulnerable this camp was.

  "Blood spell?” he asked with a look back at Daniel as he set a leather bag onto the table on Blake's right.

  "On both of them,” Daniel confirmed.

  Blake watched Simon unpack with a mix of curiosity and frustration. As a human, he
had been fascinated with all things magical, and one of his deepest regrets had always been that he didn't have the smallest spark of magical ability in him. He knew himself enough to realize that was why he had sought the company of vampires until he had found someone to turn him; becoming a vampire was the closest thing to magic he would ever experience.

  Several jars of powders and plastic bags filled with herbs soon littered the table. Even closed, they each had a distinct smell. Close as he was, Blake felt his nose itch at the unfamiliar scents. He sneezed, drawing a surprised glance from Simon.

  "You can sneeze?” he said excitedly. “I didn't know vamp—"

  "Simon,” Daniel called, on the verge of annoyance. “Focus. Blood spells first, you can chitchat later. If they're clear."

  "Oh. Of course."

  The back of Simon's neck was flushed when he leaned over his ingredients again, murmuring under his breath as he picked up a bag here, a jar there. He seemed to be rattling through a list that could almost have sounded like a recipe.

  "Hawthorne roots ... thyme ... golden pepper..."

  After a few moments, Simon straightened again, looking at Blake and Marc behind him with a slightly apologetic expression.

  "I ... I need your blood. If you don't mind."

  "They don't,” Kate said.

  She gave her crossbow to Daniel and crossed the few steps that separated her from Marc. Her right hand slid the dagger strapped to her thigh out of the scabbard. Blake's body became rigid at seeing her approach Marc with a bared blade, and he would have jumped off the table if not for a sharp warning look from his Sire. Marc seemed unmoved by the turn of events, and calmly raised his hand toward her, palm out, so she could draw the blood she wanted. Kate hesitated at that, and after a frozen second, she extended her hand. Rather than slash through Marc's palm, she flipped the dagger between her fingers, presenting it to him hilt first. A small, surprised smile played on Marc's lips and he nodded before accepting the weapon.

  She must have known, Blake reflected, that Marc could have killed her in less time than it would take her to realize what was happening. She had seen him fight earlier, and Blake had caught the look of respect she had given Marc when the four of them had been left standing amongst demon corpses. The fact that she was willing to offer him a weapon could only mean she trusted the spell would come back clean. It was an interesting development, if a surprising one.

  Holding the dagger in his right hand, Marc sliced into his left palm. Blake couldn't help but wince at the thought of his Sire being hurt—and also couldn't help but take a deep breath through his nose to catch the scent of his blood hanging in the air. It only made him more aware that he hadn't fed that night, and very little the night before that.

  While Blake reined in his hunger, Simon came to Marc, holding a small, transparent jar filled with half the concoction he had prepared. His hand shook the tiniest bit as he stood by Kate. She had taken the dagger back from Marc and was wiping it on her sleeve as though she had done so hundreds of times in the past.

  "If you would let a few drops fall in...” Simon said, his voice squeaking a little as he presented the jar to Marc.

  Without a word, Marc closed his hand into a fist to draw his own blood. As soon as the first drop hit the contents of the jar, Simon began muttering some kind of incantation in what Blake supposed was Latin. He knew that was the usual language of magic, and had heard it spoken a few times, but he had no ear for languages.

  After a few seconds, the jar filled with a soft, white glow. Simon let out a heavy breath.

  "He's clean. No human blood."

  "We should bottle you,” Blake told Marc, chuckling. “We could sell it as the ultimate blackout remedy."

  Marc rolled his eyes at him and muttered a quiet “Idiot” that the humans around them didn't seem to catch.

  "Your turn,” Kate said, coming to him.

  With an exaggerated sigh, Blake held out his hand the same way Marc had. There was the same flash of hesitation as earlier in her eyes, but instead of giving him the dagger, she cut his palm, acting so fast that even vampire reflexes were of no use to Blake.

  "Hey!” he protested, more surprised than hurt. The wound was barely deep enough to produce a few drops of blood. “Why—"

  "He saved my life,” she answered before he was even finished. “You didn't."

  "Let's get it over with,” Daniel said behind her. He sounded as though he were losing interest now that the spell had cleared Marc. “We've still..."

  His voice trailed off when he noticed the red glow filling the second jar. Simon's hand shook so much that he dropped it, and it shattered on the floor in front of Blake's table. He stumbled backwards. The next instant, the two humans who had been standing at a distance behind Daniel rushed forward while Kate retreated to stand by him and take her weapon back. The six humans formed a line, and there were suddenly four crossbows aimed at Blake.

  "What the fuck...” he exclaimed as he raised his hands and tried to look as non-threatening as he knew how.

  Just two steps away, Marc stood. His expression was thunderous when he stepped between the humans and Blake, and shielded him from their arrowss. Blake's hopes that his Sire would defend him, however, did not last long.

  "What have you done, Childe?” Marc growled, turning his glare toward him.

  It was strange, Blake reflected bitterly, how some wounds could reopen so quickly, even years after he had thought them healed.

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  Chapter 3

  The metal and wood of the crossbow felt warm and uncomfortable against Kate's palms. She tightened her grip, fighting the urge to wipe her hands on her pants and struggled to keep her aim on Blake steady. Her annoyance flared; she should have been prepared for this. When the spell had cleared Marc, she had started relaxing, certain that Blake would be clean as well. She wasn't usually so careless. It had to be her tiredness speaking, making her wish for a quick end to a too long night.

  Despite being targeted by four crossbows, Blake's entire attention remained on Marc. A muscle in his jaw clenched repeatedly and pulled at the fresh scar on his cheek. His fists were clenched on his thighs. He answered Marc's angry question in a low, tightly controlled voice.

  "I haven't killed anyone.” He gestured in Simon's direction. “He messed up his little magic trick."

  Next to Kate, Simon had jumped back at Blake's jerky motion, but the accusation had him standing straight again. He sputtered in outrage. “I didn't mess up anything!"

  When Blake finally looked toward them, his eyes were blazing in anger. His tone, however, never changed. “And I didn't kill anyone."

  "That's not..."

  Simon's voice trailed off. Glancing sideways at him, Kate wondered why he was blushing suddenly. She wasn't the only one who noticed. Daniel let out a long-suffering sigh and shuffled on his chair, leaning back to look at Simon.

  "What is it?” he asked.

  Simon's blush only darkened. “It's not my fault! You asked for a blood spell! I just—"

  "Simon,” Kate interrupted, certain that he would start rambling now if she didn't stop him.

  He glanced at her and swallowed hard before hurrying through his explanation. “The spell just says he has human blood inside him."

  Still sitting on top of the wooden table, Blake snorted. He leaned back, resting on his hands behind him. He seemed at ease, but his eyes remained pure fire. “Of course I do. I take blood from humans. Never said I didn't. But I have never killed one.” His eyes turned back toward Marc. Rather than abating, the flames burned brighter. His words, on the other hand, were as soft and as cold as snowflakes. “I don't need to kill. I just ask. Nicely."

  Kate's eyes traveled from his expressionless features to Marc's frowning ones and finally to Daniel. He met her eyes with a raised eyebrow. She shrugged. Blake's claims were entirely possible, but they hardly knew anything about him. He could be lying just as easily as he could be telling the truth. The silent exchang
e only took a second. Before either of them could say anything, however, Elliot waved his crossbow in Blake's direction.

  "You really expect us to believe that?"

  Grinding her teeth, Kate threw him a hard look. The shortest of the five men lined up in front of the tables, he was also the bulkiest. His habit of wearing t-shirts that clung to his torso and bulging biceps only emphasized his muscles. His mouth was set on a thin sneer, and his eyes glowered at Blake as though he had just announced his intention to kill them all. Then again, Elliott looked at all vampires the same way.

  Blake returned his look, half scathing, half dismissive. “Expect?” He shook his head. “I don't expect anything from you. You can believe what you want. Why should I care?"

  A rumble rose from Marc, so low that at first Kate didn't realize they were words. “Childe, that's enough."

  If Blake's eye roll upset Marc in any way, he didn't show it. He turned to Simon, arms crossed over his charcoal jacket, a very intense look knitting his eyebrows and darkening his brown eyes.

  "Do you know a spell that will tell you if he has killed humans?"

  "I ... yes, I guess I could adapt—"

  Daniel didn't let Simon finish. “Who said you could give orders to my men?” He stood and took two limping steps forward, crossing his arms to mirror Marc's stance. They stood facing each other, both imposing by their stature and presence, neither backing down.

  "If Blake killed a human,” Marc said, “I want to know."

  "Why? So you can find him excuses?"

  "No. So I can kill him myself."

  A shiver ran through Kate at the coldness in Marc's voice. She didn't realize she had lowered her crossbow until Elliot hissed a warning. She glared at him before returning her attention to Marc and, behind him, Blake. The first wore the serious and implacable expression of an executioner. The latter, still silent, reclined on the table, hands behind his head, looking superbly unconcerned. It was hard to believe they were discussing his life and death.