Lovers Awakening

by R. A. Steffan

  A memory of her childhood in Canada popped inexplicably into her mind.

  “Snow angels, Mummy!”

  “Yes, darling. Yours are beautiful, just like you!” Her mother replied, her pink cheeks visible over the scarf wrapped around her chin. Bright eyes followed Trynn’s progress as she knelt carefully in the snow next to the head of the snow angel she had just created.

  Trynn reached out a gloved hand and carefully drew a smiling face into the snow.

  “My snow angel is really a superhero in disguise, Mummy. She’s going to save the world,” Trynn called in a high voice. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, tied back by the headband covering her small ears.

  “You think so, darling?”

  “Yes, of course. That’s what good angels do. They save the world!”

  She’d been young then, in that bright and happy time before everything had gone bad—her father’s death. Her mother’s second marriage. Breaking glass and quiet crying, the snap of a leather belt, the dull thump of fists hitting flesh.

  Trynn had run away at fourteen, leaving the smiling angels behind. At twenty-seven, perhaps she’d finally found them again.

  She blinked several times, jerking herself back to the present.

  “Trynn?” Della asked, concern in her voice.

  “Sorry,” Trynn murmured. “It’s nothing. Just thinking about snow angels.”

  Della looked bewildered, but Trynn just waved her off. She turned her attention back to the Twitter feed as the first confused messages started to fly back and forth.

  “Oh, yeah,” she said, voice fierce. “That’s what I’m talking about. Shit, meet fan.”

  Trynn snapped her laptop shut and scooped it and the power cord into her bag. Taking only a moment to stuff a handful of clean clothes in her bag, she returned to the two vampires, and all three of them hurried for the door.

  *

  “You are my life and soul, beloved… I give mine willingly for you. I will be in the very air you breathe, now and forever. Every time your heart beats, I will be there, my love,” Phaidra’s soft, breathy voice whispered in his ear.

  Shrouded in darkness, Eris twisted his head back and forth restlessly, trying to find the source of the voice, and the delicious warmth emanating from it. Confused and disoriented, he could not understand what was happening. The evil that had possessed his spirit was receding. He felt more like himself, yet something was different. His senses were sharper, and he felt a terrible chill stealing through his soul. There was empty space within him, where before there had been light and happiness.

  He moaned, feeling himself being pulled awake against his will. The nightmare of his turning gave way to the nightmare of the present. He knew he was too weak to withstand any more torture, yet his body betrayed him by dragging him back into wakefulness.

  The world spun, and Eris felt certain that the table on which he was still bound was tilting, a hairsbreadth away from crashing to the floor. Even though his equilibrium was screaming in alarm, Eris made no effort to fight his bonds.

  He turned inward, trying to slip away into sleep again, in hopes of finding a kinder dream this time, and felt his consciousness start to drift. At the edge of his awareness, Eris thought he could sense Snag’s presence. Yet, it was so elusive that it, too, might have been a dream.

  Losing himself felt like sinking into swirling water, being buffeted by deep currents. His breathing grew more and more labored, as though a great weight were pressing on his chest. His heart rate sped up, fast and thready as his body tried to compensate.

  Without warning, Eris felt his senses sharpen and his awareness expand beyond his shattered physical form.

  He could sense Snag again. It wasn’t a dream. This time, his presence was as plain as day. To his horror, he realized the presence was nearby, drawing ever closer. Snag had abandoned Trynn to come after him.

  He let out a weak groan of denial, hoping against hope that the sound had not attracted the attention of his captors. He had not been able to restrain the small noise of anger and betrayal.

  No! Snag… goddamn you! You promised me… you would… keep her safe…

  Even his thoughts sounded breathless. The strain of communicating telepathically with Snag drained him of the paltry amount of energy and life force he had left.

  For a moment, sickly flashes of light wavered across the blackness before his eyes and he could do nothing but lie there, feeling giddy and sick.

  Well, that’s gratitude for you, another familiar voice said in his mind.

  Xander?

  Who else?

  But— Eris tried to blink his eyes open. One cracked open partway, only to be dazzled by a powerful spotlight above him, drowning out the darkness beyond, making it impossible to see anything beyond the ring of light. But—how?

  We’re flying to you, genius. What did you think? Shit, they really have done a number on you, haven’t they? Even you aren’t usually this dense.

  Eris could sense others pressing close to the mental link, but he didn’t have the strength left to tune them in. It was like staring into the bright light above him and trying to discern the shadows beyond its edges. The more he strained, the less he could make out, and the more it made his skull ache.

  His confused thoughts turned back to Trynn, who must even now be in grave danger without Snag’s protection. What the hell did Snag and Xander think they were doing, trying to rescue him? She was the one who needed their help!

  He had clearly been left alone here, the gritty dryness in his mouth proclaiming that he had been unconscious for several hours, at the least. It was likely that in the absence of any useful information from him, his captor had abandoned his broken body to petrify, slowly but surely hardening into stone as his life force leached away.

  Their experience led them to believe that vampires could not die natural deaths from illness, starvation, or age. If the old texts were to be believed, there were only a few ways to truly kill a vampire. But in the absence of the animating force they drew from human or vampire blood, they would eventually enter a petrified, husk-like state that was not truly life, either. He’d seen that first-hand; Snag had been nearly in that state when Eris had stumbled upon his tomb, millennia ago.

  A snort of disgust echoed across the mental bond. Clearly Eris had been unable to shield his thoughts from the others in a weakened state.

  Sounds deeply unpleasant, Xander observed. You had to know we weren’t just going to leave you to that fate.

  It would have taken a very long time, Eris retorted, feeling distinctly waspish and wishing more than ever that he could just go to sleep. Trynn needs protecting right now.

  Merde, another familiar voice scolded. She’s well protected, you idiot. Tré and Della are guarding her. For once, could you worry about yourself right now?

  Oh, good, Eris thought. Duchess is here, too. My day is now complete.

  I heard that.

  Well done, mate, Xander congratulated. Way to insult the rescue party.

  Leave him alone, both of you! We’re coming, Eris, all right? Just hang on a little longer.

  That was definitely Oksana, whose mental voice sounded decidedly strained. She and Snag seemed more aware than the others of the extent of Eris’ highly weakened state. Or perhaps the other two were simply dealing with it in the way they knew best, namely through sarcasm and bitchiness.

  Pain was sweeping through his body in horrible, sharp waves; growing worse the longer he remained conscious. He tried to shift himself to the right to ease the pull on his shattered arm… but no luck there. He was tied fast, and, if he were being honest, so weak he probably couldn’t have moved anyway.

  How the hell did the four idiots think they were going to get him out of here, anyway?

  Snag growled at him across the link.

  As plans went, blind rage left something to be desired, in Eris’ opinion.

  He squeezed his eyes shut against the light. He’d always hated winging it.

&nbs
p; You didn’t exactly leave us much choice, Xander observed. Since you went off half-cocked without any sort of a back-up plan. Or any sort of original plan, from the looks of it.

  I had a plan, you ass, he managed. It just happened to be one that failed. It happens, all right?

  He was honestly too worn down to feel much in the way of shame or embarrassment, which was probably just as well. The fact of the matter was, he’d been stupid. He’d underestimated the enemy, when the enemy was a demon who could rend souls and rain down chaos.

  He’d acted rashly, and now he was reaping the consequences. It had been desperation to protect Trynn that had driven him straight into the arms of Kovac. The truly fucked-up part was, he’d probably do it again under the same circumstances.

  Fog settled over his thoughts. He was vaguely aware of the mental voices jabbering at him, but he couldn’t make out what any of them were saying over the fast beating of his heart and the sound of his labored breathing.

  Maybe he’d finally be able to pass out again now.

  Eris, no! Stay with us! Oksana commanded. The urgency in her voice jerked him out of his twilight state, and he moaned in displeasure.

  We need you to show us where you are, Xander said. What do you remember about your arrival?

  East of the city center, I think.

  Not the most specific directions you could have offered, Duchess retorted, her irritation bleeding through the link.

  Call to me. Snag’s wordless command brooked no argument.

  Eris sighed heavily, exhaustion pulling at him. I’ll try.

  Yet he found it hard to remain conscious with the tantalizing promise of painless sleep hovering over him like a cloud. He struggled against it, but his surroundings dimmed as warm darkness wrapped around his thoughts.

  A savage mental blow buffeted his mind—an image of Bael wrapping sharp, bloody claws around Trynn forced itself in front of his mind’s eye. He exploded into motion, struggling against the chains as a roar of rage tore free from his throat.

  Fuck’s sake, Snag, Xander cursed. Are you trying to kill him? Eris? Best stay awake, mate, or I’m not sure we can keep him from doing that again.

  Adrenaline coursed through Eris, like fire burning through his sluggish veins. He yelled again in rage, but still could not free himself.

  As his awareness sharpened and all thoughts of sleep were forcefully driven from his mind, Snag surged forward and melded their minds more fully than he had done in years. His awareness of the older vampire was so strong that he could actually see the world through Snag’s eyes.

  The group was circling over the ruins, drawn by his life force towards what looked to be an abandoned warehouse. Parts of the roof had caved in and almost every single window had been blown out. Streaks of sooty blackness caked along the roofline and above the windows told Eris that there had been a vicious fire in the building.

  Snag’s powerful nose was able to pick up the faint whiff of smoke and burned flesh. Eris recoiled at the smell, but Snag did not let him break the connection.

  He swallowed against his rising gorge and focused his waning strength on a message of warning. Undead nearby. Don’t know how many.

  He felt Snag’s acknowledgement as he and the others swirled downward.

  As one, the four vampires streaked as mist through the closest of the blasted out windows and took human form in the corner of the warehouse. Standing back to back, they scanned the area with eyesight much more acute than a human’s. Large containers and crates of supplies loomed in the darkness, creating a confusing labyrinth in the enormous building.

  “Which way?” Oksana whispered, her voice so low that no human would be able to hear it.

  Snag shut his eyes, cutting off Eris’ telepathic view of his surroundings.

  Instead, he felt Snag’s mind expand with a cold, white light. The ancient vampire pressed outward, filling the entire space with his life force. Through it, Eris could sense the other vampires more fully.

  He could tell that Oksana needed to feed on human blood. Her last meal had been Bon Bons, which she was now regretting in light of the coming battle.

  Xander was fighting a vicious hangover—so in other words, he was perfectly normal.

  Duchess was the picture of health and vitality.

  An oily sensation with the stench of decay slid across Snag’s awareness—a large group of undead soldiers about one hundred meters to their west. It seemed to both Snag and Eris that they were standing guard over something, possibly an entrance to the basement beneath the factory building.

  Snag projected the impression to the others and gestured in the direction they needed to go.

  Brilliant, Xander projected with false cheer. This is going to be shed loads of fun, I can just tell.

  Eris gritted his teeth, frantically yanking his good arm against the ropes, hoping to free himself and help with the fight. It was useless, of course.

  A cold sweat broke out over his body and bile rose in his throat as Eris sensed the group of vampires creep forward towards the unsuspecting undead. Snag’s power pulsed through the building.

  Bael’s minions must have been completely mindless to not realize something powerful was approaching. But where was Kovac? Eris wriggled his less-injured wrist, which was now soaked with sweat. To his delight, he was finally able to drag his hand out of the loop of coarse rope wrapped around it.

  He closed his eyes and sank fully into Snag’s consciousness.

  Snag was peering around a large metal container, looking at a light source he could make out through the damaged door.

  “It looks like a lantern or small fire,” Xander murmured under his breath.

  “How many creeps are there?” Duchess asked, cool and unruffled as a spring morning.

  Snag reached out and slid his consciousness over the undead in the other room. A few of them looked around in confusion at the sensation, but there was no sense of alarm. Clearly, the unfortunate creatures had been so thoroughly immersed in evil that they could no longer even recognize the presence of the Light.

  Oksana was concentrating on the mental link. “Nine behind the door, which leads to a passage down to the basement—probably where they’re holding Eris. There are more underground.”

  “Then let’s get this party started,” Xander answered, his eyes lit with green flame. His lips curled back, baring his fangs.

  The four of them fanned out, approaching the door. Snag gave Xander a significant look, and the younger vampire moved forward, ready to burst through the door and lead the charge into the midst of the oblivious group of undead.

  Just as his fingers were about to grip the handle, the door was pulled open from within. One of the undead stepped out, staring at the ground before bumping stupidly into Xander’s chest.

  “Well, hello there,” Xander greeted as the thing’s head snapped upward and its mouth fell open in shock.

  Through Snag’s eyes, Eris could see that its teeth were rotted and green. He smelled the pungent, suffocating stench filtering through the doorway.

  Before he could even draw breath to yell for help, Xander slammed his knuckles into the zombie’s face, its head flying backwards under the force of the punch.

  The incapacitated foot soldier stumbled backwards and fell into the room, knocking over the lantern that was sitting in the middle of the floor. Its fellows leapt to their feet with snarls of surprise and fury.

  A vicious fight ensued. Although these undead were no more capable of independent thought than those the vampires had fought in New Orleans, they were clearly trained to fight, and battled relentlessly.

  Several more poured out of the door before the vampires had a chance to respond. The new arrivals waded in, battling ferociously.

  Duchess was locked in hand-to-hand combat with a man nearly twice her size, and although her centuries of experience at fighting kept her one step ahead of the monster, she was unable to finish him. Instead, she danced lightly in a circle, evading blow after blow aimed
at her head.

  Eris felt Snag draw his mental power into a hot ball in the center of his chest. Every time one of the undead approached him, he simply forced the creature back with a blast of his life force. The Light penetrated the Darkness inside the undead, making them stumble, recoil, and fall to the floor. Yet, with each burst of power, Snag weakened his own reserves.

  Unfortunately, the others were faring about the same. Xander was wrestling with a man roughly the same size and strength he was, and, following Duchess’ example, Oksana was using her light frame to evade, rather than deal a deathblow.

  Snag snarled in impatience and sent another undead soldier flying backward.

  “Doing the best we can here, mate,” Xander gasped. His opponent had managed to get him in a headlock, and he wrestled to free himself.

  Snag sprung forward and struck the zombie in the temple with his elbow, causing the creature to lurch away, stunned by the blow.

  Xander gasped and clutched his throat, dragging air back into his lungs.

  Snag pressed his hand against the zombie’s head and forced sleep into its mind. The creature struggled for a moment, and then went completely limp as his animating force drained away into nothingness.

  Oksana let out a cry of victory as she finally knocked her opponent backwards onto the floor with a burst of strength. The thing’s chest was impaled on the sharp end of a broken metal pipe cemented into the ground. It shuddered once, and went limp.

  Her victory was short-lived, however, as more of the undead leapt through the door, ready to take their fallen comrades’ place in the battle.

  “This is meant to delay us!” Xander called, and Eris felt Snag’s agreement, echoed a moment later by Oksana and Duchess.

  As one, they pulled their life force inward and dissolved into a swirl of mist that circled the group of bewildered undead and plunged through the open door. Experiencing the flight through Snag’s senses made Eris feel sick and dizzy.

  He pulled his mind back and opened his eyes, back in his own body. He could sense that Snag was close now. He’d managed to pull his right wrist free earlier, but the effort had cost him. He was too weak to do more than lie there and drag in one shallow, rasping breath after another as the bright light pointed at his face stabbed into his slitted eyelids.