Scarlet Dawn

by Megan J. Parker

  Her eyes narrowed on him and his feet were no longer touching the floor.

  Stupid dog; dog’s so stupid!

  The invisible force holding him squeezed the air from his lungs and he gasped, unable to call to the others; unable to make any sound at all!

  Wanna run—gotta run!—won’t run when he’s told!

  “Wh-who…” he croaked out right before the hold launched his body HARD into the storage shelves behind him. Crying out, he fell to the floor as the shelves collapsed and dumped their contents on top of him.

  “All this… because I rejected you?” He coughed and some blood spilled out in the process.

  “I guess you could say that I’ve never been one to take rejection lightly,” she sneered. “We all have our flaws, puppy-dog, and I’ve never claimed to be perfect.”

  No saving them now…

  The woman tilted her head towards the other side of the room and Axle’s body followed the gesture; sailing through the air and crashing into the wall. He cried out as the invisible force pinned him against the cold metal wall; pushing down on his body and forcing the air from his lungs.

  Fucking aurics!

  Unseen energy fields and power-draining holds and mind-reading nonsense…

  Nothing to fight against.

  But he was never one to follow logic!

  Fight it, dog! Fight it, dog! Fight it, fight it, fight it!

  “I’m not a damn dog!” Axle growled.

  The woman frowned, “What did you say?”

  Axle growled and began to struggle against the auric hold; working the oxygen-starved muscles in his body to start his transformation even under the pressure of her binds. His body strained and rippled with the beginnings of the change, but something in his mind popped and a high-pitched whine grew in his head until he was forced to stop the efforts. All at once his transformation ceased—his muscles going unresponsive—and Axle looked up in anger as the auric began to laugh.

  “I don’t think so!” She hissed, holding up her hand and clenching it tightly. As her fist began to shake, the tightness seemed to carry over to his body and he felt several of his ribs begin to crack under the pressure. “And now you die!” She laughed and began to twist her fist, only to have the rusted storage room door thrown off its hinges.

  Then it was her turn to be thrown across the room.

  “Tristan!” Drake motioned towards the woman, “Deal with her! Keep her busy! Lucas, help me get him down!”

  Bind her! Bind her mind! Tell them! TELL THEM! Bind her NOW!

  Axle groaned as Lucas reached out with his hand and suddenly the hold on him broke free, allowing him to fall to his knees. Wrenching, he coughed up a wad of blood and cupped his arm across his chest, fighting against the broken ribs to speak.

  “B-bind… bind her! Now! Her mind!” He nodded to Lucas, “Help him!”

  Lucas frowned, “B-but you’re hurt…”

  “NOW!” Axle hissed in pain and he doubled over.

  “I can deal with her,” Tristan called back, “Mend his injuries while I deal with—”

  The auric’s body was thrown through the wall and he cried out in agony. The woman stood, regaining her composure, and as the others started towards her a shimmer of light—a wave; a shimmering ripple—rocketed outward and slammed them all to the ground.

  Axle growled—the rumble in his chest reverberating through his cracked ribs and cutting his breath short—and fought to start towards his friend. Before he’d even taken a step, however, the invisible force suddenly slammed into his face, caving in his skull.

  Too late, dog.

  Stupid, stupid dog.

  No saving any of them now.

  “NOOOOOOO!!” Axle roared, his rage cutting past the torrents of agony wracking his body. “You bitch! You will pay! You will!”

  “Have you seen yourself?” She laughed, “You’re in no position to be—What the hell?”

  Lucas stood and squared off against the woman, “You… you hurt my friends.”

  The woman scoffed, “Oh darling… I intend to do so much more than—”

  The usually shy and reserved auric let out a yell that shook the very foundation of the subway station; his hair whipping about his head as he unleashed what felt like a tornado in the small room.

  The woman fought to keep her footing as the force of Lucas’ anger threatened to topple her over, and as her struggles kept her distracted Lucas turned his focus towards Axle.

  “Keep… you safe…”

  Axle frowned, opening his mouth to speak only to be swept up in Lucas’ auric whirlwind.

  And then the young auric collapsed.

  The woman scoffed, straightening herself, “Stupid kid. Very, very stupid!”

  “What did you do to him?” Axle growled.

  “I didn’t have to do a damn thing,” the woman chortled. “The little retard blew his own fuse.” She kicked Lucas’ body, “Try to do too much at once and… POOF!” Shrugging, she stepped around him, “Happens to the weakest of us, I’m afraid. Now… to kill you.”

  The woman’s hand raised and, once again, tightly clenched. Axle bit his lip, feeling a flare of energy around him and then…

  Nothing?

  “Dammit! That stupid, self-sacrificing dimwit!” The woman kicked Lucas’ body again.

  Axle blinked. She couldn’t hurt him? He looked down at Lucas’ body and bit his lip.

  Keep… you safe…

  “Lucas… no.”

  The woman sighed, “I think this one had a bit of a boy-crush on you. Looks like you’re shielded, and, ‘cuz Lady Irony is an obvious bitch, it looks like that’s what killed him,” she chuckled. “Well, if I can’t kill you then at the very least I just get both of you nuisances out of my hair!”

  “Both…?” Axle looked up.

  Holding out her hand, she began to focus on her palm—staring as though something of substance was resting there, but Axle’s eyes weren’t trained to see it for whatever it was. After a moment, she slammed her hand into his forehead and a wave of pain grew in his head and he cried out as his vision began to fade.

  Then there was only one name—one face—that occupied his howling mind.

  “SERENA!”

  Nikki smiled as she led Raith towards the small café that had become her down-time hotspot. Plopping him in one of the chairs at one of the few available tables that occupied the outside of the café, she smiled.

  “Now you stay there, and when I get back you’ll get to taste the greatest espresso you’ve ever had.”

  Raith raised an eyebrow, “You realize I’ve been to Italy, right?”

  “Silence, non-believer!” Nikki held up a hand as she stepped inside. Though the place was bustling with activity, the bulk of the orders had already been placed and, smiling at her own good luck, she was able to get the coffees and a scone with hardly any wait.

  Returning to the table, she presented Raith with one of the steaming cups and the warmed sweet-bread. “Ta-da!”

  Raith smiled, “I missed you so much, luv.”

  Nikki rolled her eyes, “Nonsense! I was only in there five minutes… tops!”

  “You know what I mean,” Raith chuckled.

  “I… I know. I missed you too…” She smiled softly and bit her lip, “I just wish that…”

  “I know,” Raith sighed. “Zane was my best friend…” He shook his head and bit his lip, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I wish I’d’ve told you to piss off when you asked us to do that job…”

  “I know… but it wasn’t your fault, or even Zane’s! I didn’t know how bad things had gotten,” she looked down, “there was no way I could’ve known how bad things had gotten. But all of that—the taroe tribe and that awful Maledictus—are all in the past now, and once we find Zane and set things right then everything will be better.” Nikki sighed as she smiled softly at him. “Besides, things will get better soon enough. I can feel it.”

  “That’s what I’ve always loved about you, Nic
c’oule,” Raith smirked and allowed himself to lean back—one of the first acts of true relaxation that Nikki had seen from him, “You’ve always been so positive; always feeling things could get better.”

  Nikki felt her cheeks heat up. It had been so long since she’d heard her true name, and hearing it brought their previous history flooding to the surface of her mind. Reliving those times, however, drove her to remember what had happened to them, and she shivered.

  “I… I’ll admit that being upbeat hasn’t been easy without you,” she confessed. Taking a sip of her coffee, she looked up at him, “Do you… ever think about it? What happened, I mean?”

  “I try not to. The memories of you and I—those I appreciate; in small doses, at least—but…” He shook his head, his body tensing again as he leaned forward in his chair. “Zane might not be in here with me—with us”—he shook his head—“make no mistake, whether or not Maledictus is active doesn’t mean he’s not still in this body, as well—but the body still remembers. It’s like, all of our combined memories of what happened are stored in here for that monster to use for whatever he likes.”

  Nikki smiled, taking his hand in hers and squeezed gently. “You can tell me anything you’d like. I’m here for you. Maybe talking about it will help.”

  Raith frowned, “I’m not sure…”

  Nikki bit her lip, “Please. I need to know what happened to him—what happened to you—after what my people did to you two…”

  “Raith? RAITH?” Zane thrashed against the binds and hands that held him against the frigid stone slab, “G-get off me! GET OFF! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TO HIM? RAITH? RAITH!”

  The blood curdling cries of his friend were all the evidence Zane needed to know that, whatever they were doing to him, it wasn’t something he’d want to see. Fully registering this, however, he couldn’t bring himself to stop his struggling against his captors to see past them; to get a glimpse of what the taroe chief was doing.

  It wasn’t supposed to have been like this!

  It was just a job!

  A simple job!

  It was never supposed to—

  There was a pause in Raith’s cries—a bitter-sweet break in the pained howls—that was occupied by a jagged and tortured hiss as Raith struggled to inhale.

  “YOU FUCKS! YOU SICK FUCKS! LEAVE HIM ALONE, OR I SWEAR I’LL RIP EVERY ONE OF YOUR—AHHHH!” The cold that had begun to seep into Zane’s core was flooded by scorching pain. Fighting against the leather bind that held his head, he pushed to see the source.

  Then suddenly wished he hadn’t.

  The dagger was nearly buried to the hilt; the few inches still protruding allowing him to see the rusted and serpentine metal that had been embedded in his belly.

  “Silence that wretch,” the chief’s voice rose over the celebratory jeers of the taroe tribe. “I’ll tolerate no more of his flapping tongue!”

  “Shall I carve it from his head?”

  Zane wretched and whimpered as the dagger was yanked from his guts and a length of intestine followed.

  Raith’s cries were stifled then, the chief letting out a grunt as he fought to maintain control of the therion.

  “No,” the chief’s voice oozed with malicious intent, “he’ll suffer far more if we allow him to keep his voice. Here, use these.”

  Zane whimpered as he felt the warmth of his insides begin to worm down his hip. “What… what do you want from us? Wh-what—”

  A pair of hands seized his face and forced his lips open as another taroe leaned in and pushed two fleshy lengths into his mouth. The taste of therion blood—Raith’s blood!—rolled over his tongue before it seeped down his throat. His vampire body ignored the bitter taste of the source and excitedly compelled Zane to seek out more, but his awareness of who the blood belonged to made him wretch. As his bound body quaked with spasms of nausea, he felt a pair of hardened points rake against his lips.

  Claws…

  His eyes widened and a muffled cry squeezed around the two fingers that had been cut from Raith’s hand.

  “I think the filthy blood-sucker likes it!”

  “Disgusting creatures!”

  “One of you help me,” the chief called out. “This wretched dog won’t keep his eyes open!”

  As a few of Zane’s captors stepped away from the blood-covered stone slab he’d been secured to, Raith’s cries started up again.

  ~One Day Earlier~

  “Oye! Zane!” Raith’s voice carried over the excited din of the pub, “Zaney-boy! Quit dickin’ around! I’ve got us—”

  “Calm down, Raith!” Zane chuckled and nudged one of the drunks he’d invited to his table, “Can’t you see that I’m entertaining company?” He laughed again.

  Raith frowned, his nostrils flaring as the stink of liquor flooded his sensitive nose. “Company?” He shook his head, quickly turning back to Zane, “We ain’t got—”

  Zane shook his head, “You’re being rude, my friend! I’ve told these gentlemen all about you and our adventures! Come, sit and drink with us! I’m certain they’d love to hear your news!”

  Raith frowned, but begrudgingly pulled a free chair from a neighboring table and sat beside Zane. “I hope that you haven’t told them everything!”

  The others cackled.

  “Yer friend’s got a bit of a speech impediment there, eh Zane?” One of the drunks smirked, picking up on the lingering traces of Raith’s accent.

  Zane shrugged, “That’s right, boys! Raith here is a true-blue Aussie; a genuine product of the great ‘Down Undah’, isn’t that right Raith?”

  “Well why doesn’t he throw anotha’ shrimp on da bahbie and join us for a drink?”

  They all cheered.

  “I bet he can drink you ‘undah’ the table, eh?”

  More laughter.

  “Not a chance! Nobody can hold their liquor like Zane!”

  Somebody at the bar scoffed, “Wasn’t always that way.”

  “Oh yea…” a pair of skeptical eyes fell upon Zane, “I remember when you couldn’t even handle a beer and a shot without passing out. What the hell happened to you?”

  Zane shrugged, recalling how often he’d passed out or become sick during his visits to the bar before he’d been turned. Since becoming a vampire, however, no amount of alcohol could faze him, and his reputation among the patrons he’d grown up with his entire life had quickly been replaced. Though none of them knew what had caused this bizarre change.

  And they never could know.

  Forcing a grin back to his face, he shook his head, “Nuh-uh. We all have our secrets. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think my partner has earned a private moment.”

  Pulling himself to his feet, Zane made a note of faking a stumble followed by several shaky steps before seemingly regaining his composure and making his way, with a few unsteady sways, to the front door.

  By the time the two of them were outside, Raith was shaking his head.

  “Again’ drunken’onsense; all tha’ really nec’ssary?” He rolled his eyes.

  Zane shrugged, “Do you have any idea how much I’ve been drinking?” He shook his head and laughed, “Those American bastards are probably shocked I’m still alive!”

  “You shouldn’t be drinking with them at all!” Raith’s head was swill swaying back and forth.

  “Well that’s rude,” Zane mirrored the gesture, “Just because they’re human?”

  “There is no ‘just because’! It is exactly because they’re human,” Raith’s voice, though kept low, carried a heavy weight of severity that struck Zane as though it had been shouted in his face. “You’re not one of them anymore, and you never will be again!”

  Zane frowned, “You know I didn’t choose this life.”

  Raith shook his head, “Well this life chose you! And there are rules that you’d better be ready to follow if you want to go on having any kind of life! For starters: not letting humans see that you’re not one of them!”

  “But I grew up with these
people,” Zane chewed his lip. “They’ve known me my entire life!”

  “Your entire human life,” Raith corrected him, “Who you were is not who you are now, and those people will forget all about who you were when they see that you’re not aging like they are.”

  Zane felt a growl rumble in his chest but fought to keep it in as he forced himself to turn away from the pub. “So what is it that you wanted to tell me?”

  The excited smile that Raith had been wearing when he’d first entered the pub returned then.

  “I got us a job!”

  “I still don’t understand,” Celine called from the door, “Why exactly do you suddenly have to leave for the weekend? I thought we had plans?”

  Zane didn’t need to turn around to know that she was frowning at him.

  And though he didn’t boast any psychic abilities, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that her arms were crossed and her jaw was locked.

  Sighing, he finished packing the last of his supplies and secured his bag before daring to turn around to face his fiancé.

  Her arms were crossed.

  Her jaw was locked.

  And, as an added bonus, she was tapping her foot.

  He sighed again. He didn’t care how dangerous the job Raith had gotten them was; it was certain to be a cake-walk in comparison to that moment.

  Assuming Celine let him live long enough to get past the door…

  “Look,” Zane set down the bag, being gentle to not let his knives rattle and draw attention to their presence—he wasn’t sure which was worse, Celine getting more nervous about his need for weapons or the potential for her to get more upset and use them. “I know you wanted to go out, but this job is big; really big!”

  “What sort of job is it?” Celine’s face shifted to concern and Zane felt the first wave of guilt hit him.

  “It’s…” Zane sighed and sat on the bed, “Well, it’s not entirely legal. I guess it’s—”