Here Be Monsters [2]

by Phaedra Weldon

  She started to fight to get away from Oberon but he wrapped his arms around her. Elves were as strong as vampires, and it wasn't like she could bite him. That would only mean her death. Oberon wasn't a Winterbourne. "Let me get to him—"

  "Silira…" Oberon said as he held Siobhan. "How long?"

  "Any minute." She turned to look at her right just as Siobhan heard the sound of sirens. Someone had alerted the humans to what was happening.

  Oberon sighed. Siobhan heard his heart thundering in his chest, and noted the strained sound in his voice. "A minute will be too late."

  - 18 -

  Xe-Faun worked with Illeië's Black Guard to surround the park and move the humans away. He watched from a distance as the Fallen and the small vampire child fought in the fountain. He heard the order to leave Abyssinian where he was. It was obvious to him the Fallen had drank his blood.

  Merlin's curse was broken.

  Just at the Regent had feared.

  He should have destroyed Abyssinian when he was told to. Thom had been right. All of the Winterbourne should have been contained or destroyed.

  Xe-Faun caught a movement from the prince. There was still life in him.

  No. He should die.

  Die for leaving Underhill and sentencing them all to death so he could be with his vampire whore.

  Siobhan.

  She had entrapped the King in the same way. And then he'd been imprisoned in this mortal realm. Now she had the prince.

  Maybe…

  He spotted Oberon and Siobhan in the shadows, and another elven woman he didn't recognize. This woman stood out from the other two.

  They were arm in arm. Siobhan and Oberon. Even as Abyssinian lay dead or dying.

  It was all her fault.

  The Regent had blamed her as well.

  He promised himself if they survived this, and save Underhill, then justice would be done.

  Abyssinian managed to shift his position, roll over on his back. In the moonlight he could see the two creatures fighting on the edge of the fountain. Maeve had turned and blocked a dive from the little vampire, who ducked under the arm and tackled the taller woman. He was surprised not to see magic being used—if Maeve was truly a creature of elves and vampires—would she not possess magic? He's seen it used before.

  Fuck this…

  With a low groan that crescendoed into something a bit louder, he managed to push himself up into a crouch. Keeping his head upright made him dizzy. Now he really was worried about how much blood he'd lost. He'd known of elves to die—but he's never really considered his own death before now.

  Even as he moved he felt a tingling in his fingertips. His stomach fluttered.

  Magic.

  He looked down at himself when he saw a faint glow reflected off the concrete and grass. His body was cast in a pulsing outline. Soft blue that turned to indigo, and then red.

  The curse—

  He looked over at Oberon and Siobhan. He saw Silira moving toward him. He turned to the two combatants. The Fallen was closest. He didn't care if the spell took out the little vampire. Abyssinian managed to stand.

  Go to her.

  Silira's voice. In his mind. It over-rode every other thought.

  And I will destroy her.

  He shuffled forward to the fountain. With every step the red glow intensified, growing brighter and brighter. She turned when he stepped into the water. She was inches away. Her eyes widened. Her mouth—full of sharp teeth—parted in a scream—

  And then everything irrupted in a deafening, red light.

  "Siobhan!" Oberon called out.

  He wrenched her to him as he saw his brother's body explode in a nova of magic. Within seconds he summoned a protection ward over the two of them and pulled her to the ground under his arms. She fought and called out Abyssinian's name over and over again.

  That power…

  No ordinary vesta en' coia should contain that kind of power in it. What had Silira done?

  And where had she gained this kind of power?

  Screams of agony, voices chiming in as the approaching sirens grew closer. The vesta en' coia's wave had started. Because Silira had placed the curse, the wave would return to her. But Illeië said the elf had changed it—that it would effect people in a much wider range.

  He felt the waves of magic—of life's energy—buffet his protection. It tried to eat away at it to get to himself and Siobhan.

  And then it was gone.

  The screams. The voices. The sirens.

  There was only the deafening chirp of crickets.

  "Let me go!" Siobhan was hitting him, squirming to get out of his arms. He released her and stood up just as she sprinted—flew—to where Abyssinian had been.

  As Oberon looked around he realized the fountain was dark. The lights that normally illuminated it were off. Even the water wasn't pumping. Buildings around them were dark. The only light came from the full moon overhead.

  He cast a ball of light over his head, built the diameter to five feet, and sent it up to hover over the fountain.

  Oberon saw Siobhan, and four bodies scattered on the ground. He looked around to see if any of the black guard had survived. To his relief, small incandescent bubbles of protection vanished with small flashes. Those who were quick had protected themselves, those who weren't—

  "Abyssinian!"

  Oberon jogged to where she knelt over his brother. He joined her and reached a finger to his brother's neck.

  There wasn't a pulse.

  No….

  Siobhan watched Oberon. She'd seen his face, and grabbed up his still brother in her arms and began to rock. Oberon put his hand to his face when he saw the blood that covered his brother's side. The wound given to him by Thom.

  The bastard.

  Oberon heard something to his right and turned to see Silira stir. He moved to her and helped her into a sitting position. "Silira?" he said gently.

  She took in a deep breath and opened her eyes to him. They were no longer indigo, but white. Had the power blinded her? He moved his hand over her face.

  "I can see you, King," Silira said. Her voice sounded strange, as if there were an echo. He also felt a strange power eminating softly from her. "In fact, I can finally see everything."

  "Silira…" he looked hard into her face. "Abyssinian…"

  "I am sorry, Oberon. But it had to be done. The Fallen must die." And with that, she pushed him gently away. "Vampire."

  She was directing her voice toward Siobhan, but it was the body of the Fallen that moved under the light of Oberon's magic. He cursed and turned to face it, putting Silira behind him. The crumpled form seemed to ooze and shift until its center moved into a six foot column and reformed itself into the woman he'd seen before. The black eyes, the white skin.

  No!

  She survived!

  "Don't let her illusions fool you, Oberon," Silira said behind him, and again her voice echoed. Was it all in his mind? "Remember…she is one of us, as much as she is one of them."

  The Fallen laughed and spread her arms wide. "Fool! You honestly believed you could defeat me! I have broken Merlin's curse." She waved her hand in the air.

  Oberon—and every elf there he was sure—felt the hum and the vibration as the cairn was activated. He turned to one of the gardens surrounding the fountain and saw the circle of lights flare into existence.

  Damn! She's going to Underhill.

  He made a move to put himself between the Fallen and the cairn, but Silira grabbed him. "No. Allow me."

  A line of Black Guard came running out of the circle of light and formed a line where Oberon had meant to go. Then all reached behind them—

  And he expected them to draw their weapons.

  He was surprised when they all pulled high power mag-lights from their backs and aimed them at the Fallen.

  The creature laughed. "Have you forgotten that I have broken the curse, little one? That the sun can no longer burn me?"

  Silira stood slo
wly and Oberon followed her. He stood beside her, but kept an eye on Abyssinian and Siobhan to his left. His heart was breaking over his brother—but he couldn't show his weakness now. Not in front of a monster like this.

  "For now…"

  Maeve started walking toward the cairn and the line of elves. "You will not stop me. None of you can. I have drained the prince of his life, and now I intend on retaking my kingdom and draining it dry as well. And thanks to that fool you left in charge—" and he looked over at Xe-Faun. "I only have a few cairns left to destroy before I cut Underhill off forever."

  Oberon stepped forward. She had to be stopped. If she did cut Underhill off, then those elves here in the mortal realm would die. They all took their life from their home. And the cairns kept them all in touch with the sunlight of their land.

  She waved her hand and before he could grab a breath, Oberon was knocked backward against the fence. The impact tore the fence down and he stopped several feet away from the garden and the illuminated cairn.

  She still had power!

  This time it was Xe-Faun that rushed at her, his bow and arrow drawn. She waved her hand at him and Oberon watched him fly backward as well. There was a sickening crack as he hit the ground and lay still.

  Illeië's hands went up over her head and an intricate circle of symbols appeared in the air. They glowed bright blue and she started chanting in a low voice.

  Maeve stopped and waved her hand at Illeië—

  The elf healer didn't fly backwards—but the circle broke apart into floating sparkles of glitter.

  Oberon's heart sank. She was unstoppable! His brother had died for nothing?

  "Maeve."

  He turned to watch Silira move out to stand in front of Siobhan and Abyssinian. The Fallen looked over at her and waved her hand.

  Silira didn't move.

  Maeve waved both of her hands.

  Still she didn't move.

  "Maeve. You will not win. You will be stopped. The curse that struck you has taken half of your power and given it to me. We are equal now."

  The Fallen's black eyes widened. "You lie!"

  "No. You cannot hurt me."

  "You will die!" The Fallen hissed and expose the ugliness of her soul in her face as she lunged.

  "Silira!" Oberon called out.

  - 19 -

  Siobhan nuzzled his neck. The flesh was butchered from that bitch's feeding. She smelled his blood. It filled her world. But she fought against the desire to drink. He was dead in her arms. She'd believed him gone from her before, and he'd returned. But this time…she felt the life leave him. Felt it hover over them, sing to her, speak to her…

  You must survive, Siobhan.

  With a shuddering sob she pulled back from him, and looked down at his face, illuminated by Oberon's lamp above them. His eyes were closed forever. His lips parted in deep sleep. And his beautiful bright red hair lay limp and almost colorless against his cheek and forehead. She touched that hair and heard the creature stirring behind her.

  She heard it speak.

  Felt its magic.

  And acknowledged the rage that built and burned deep inside of her.

  She'd tried to kill Keith…and Siobhan had saved him.

  She'd killed so many elves and vampires…searching for her own selfish needs.

  And now Abyssinian had risked his life to destroy her—and failed.

  Siobhan heard Silira speak. She was furious at this elf for cursing Abyssinian and infusing that curse with such power. All of this death…and thing thing…still…moved…

  She saw Oberon fly backwards.

  She saw Illeië's magic disrupted.

  Her inside boiled. Her rage ignited her heart and her blood. The animal inside of her, the wolf she kept caged inside of her, broke free. She growled as she felt Maeve coming near. Could feel her power.

  Heard Silira taunt her.

  Let Abyssinian rest on the ground.

  Siobhan turned as her body shifted, as her fur grew, her fangs elongated, and her hatred and anger—took over.

  She wasn't surprised when Silira stepped to the side at the last second and Maeve landed in the open embrace of a mad and insane wolf. Siobhan growled and opened her mouth to catch Maeve's neck between her jaws. She bit down deep, hard, and with the intent to break….and to remove.

  "Siobhan!" Oberon called out to her. "She's an elf! Her blood will kill you!"

  But Siobhan no longer cared. She would die an agonizing death if she could take this bitch with her. Maeve fought the wolf—her fingers entwined in the fur and was pulling and kicking and screaming as Siobhan locked on.

  She was not letting go.

  The first drop of the monster's blood slid down her throat. And when it touched her stomach—

  The world as she'd always known it—changed.

  "She can't do that!" Oberon said as he charged forward. But Silira blocked his path. "Move!"

  "Let her be." Silira said. "She's fullfilling her destiny, just as Abyssinian fullfilled his."

  "Destiny?" Oberon spat at her. "What the hell are you, Silira? My brother is dead. Siobhan is going to die—"

  "No. She won't." This wasn't Silira's voice.

  The small child he'd seen before, the one who smelled of death and decay, had risen and now stood beside Silira. Though the child looked to be no older than nine, there was a timelessness in her face. A face that had seen too much in this world.

  And Oberon knew her. "St. Clair."

  She nodded to him and turned. "She won't. But I won't allow her to have it all." The child too became a wolf and dove at the flailing monster. She clamped her maw over the thing's closest arm and bit down.

  Oberon watched in wide-eyed amazement. "I don't—"

  "Patience, King," Silira said. Her white eyes unnerved him.

  Things changed in her as she drank..and drank…and did not burn. No…this was not poison, but an elixir as sweet as Abyssinian's—

  Of course!

  That was it! Siobhan rejoiced inside. This monster had drank his blood. She was both elf and vampire. And her blood was…

  Powerful.

  She felt St. Clair's presence beside her and welcomed her kindred. Drink! Drink! Let the beast die!

  And the two of them fed and fed until the monster beneath them no longer moved. Siobhan released first and realized she'd shifted back to her human form. As had St. Clair. The small, older vampire sat back as well, her face turned to the artificial light. A breeze blew her hair from her face and her chin was coated in the rich, sweet black blood.

  The were both infused with a Fallen's life…

  But the thing wasn't dead.

  It still moved. Still tried to thrash.

  Maeve was no longer the beautiful creature she had been. Her skin had shrunk to her bones, as if something had sucked all the moisture out of her. Her eyes were exposed as if her eyelids had vanished. They rolled around like marbles. Her lips curled away from her pointed teeth, and a few of those teeth fell out.

  Her dress and cloak vanished, as if it were a part of her, conjured up and now was gone as her power left her.

  And as Siobhan stood and backed away from the thing, she heard the voice in her head. My daughter…save me…

  Instead, she spit on her. St. Clair laughed and vanished as she turned. Whatever power she'd culled from the monster would be known only to her.

  "Wow…you people are sick," came a familiar voice.

  She turned to see Keith Song coming forward, a gun in his right hand. He moved past Siobhan, looked down at the thing writhing on the floor, aimed the gun and fired.

  The bullet shattered the monster's skull. Everything fell away, crumbled to the concreted and was taken into the fountain by the wind.

  "I don't care what it is," he said as he turned to face Siobhan. He made a face and reached inside of his pocket and pulled out a small travel pack of moistened towels and handed it to Siobhan. "Or if it tried to kill me. You put it out of its misery." He grinned her. "
Wipe your chin."

  She took the wipes and did as he said.

  Her gaze caught Oberon's movement as he went to his brother and knelt down.

  Siobhan handed the bloodied towel back to Keith, who made a face, and moved to kneel on the other side of Abyssinian.

  He looked…peaceful.

  "Siobhan," Silira said and stood behind Oberon.

  She didn't know why she thought of it—of how the idea came—whether it was something Silira had put into her head or because she knew it from the Fallen's voice—but she lifted her wrist to her mouth and bit down.

  The warmth and thrill of the taste disguised any pain she felt and she filled her mouth with her blood.

  "What are you doing?" Oberon moved out to grab her wrist, but Silira stopped him. "What is she doing?"

  Siobhan moved to straddle Abyssinian. On her hands and knees she bent down and pressed her lips to his, and allowed the blood in her mouth to trickle into his.

  "No! You can't turn an elf—Siobhan you know this! His body will corrupt—"

  But she let the blood flow until she felt him stir beneath him. He swallowed, and then swallowed again. She felt him move, his hips against hers, and then he was kissing her, licking her lips, sucking on her tongue as if to pull the last of the blood from it.

  Oberon pulled away from them. "What—what's happening. How is he—"

  "King," Silira said. "The Fallen's blood can restore his life, because it was his blood to begin with. She will not turn him—that is impossible. But she can—"

  "Ghoul him," Keith sighed. "She made him her ghoul. Great….just….great."

  - 20 -

  "He's not a ghoul…"

  Siobhan stood in the Great Hall. Sunbeams streamed in through the stained glass windows, warm on her skin. One of the benefits from drinking the Fallen's blood—immunity to sunlight.

  For now.

  Illeië didn't believe the ability would last. That eventually Siobhan would have to retreat back to the shadows. The blood had increased her strength, heightened her senses, and given her a slight ability in glamor. They were in Underhill because in the mortal realm, Oberon was a wanted man.