Extinction Agenda s-6

by Marcus Pelegrimas

  When Sophie looked over to him, it didn’t take long for Milosh to nod his approval. “My issue isn’t with you,” she said, “or Cole. It’s with the company you keep. We know you work with Nymar, and we can’t afford to have the American vampires infecting any more of ours with the Shadow Spore. For all we know, they could be watching you. Or,” she added while focusing on Waggoner, “using you as spies.”

  “Having a bit of an uprising here, huh?” Cole chided. Although he’d thrown the comment out offhandedly, he could tell by the looks on the Amriany faces around him that he’d struck one hell of a nerve.

  Sophie’s next words came very deliberately and weighed heavily as she spoke them. “The European Nymar have been taking lessons from the Americans. Already, several police officials as well as military personnel have been killed in a way that would implicate Amriany involvement.”

  Paige chuckled. “Now there’s some classic sweet talk. So your Nymar are stepping out of line. That just means now is the time to act before things get as bad here as they are back home.”

  “The Full Bloods were always going to return,” George said. “That’s never been a question. Esteban is only the first.”

  “Which is why we all need to figure out a way to keep it from getting worse,” Paige insisted. “The Nymar can be dealt with just as long as there are people willing to take them on. Unless things change where the Full Bloods are concerned, we could be looking at extinction. Not just Skinners. Humans.”

  Sophie placed a hand on the mantel, less than an inch away from the sword. After looking around to the other Amriany, she spoke a few words in their language, got a few words back from each one, then shifted her attention back to the Skinners. “You’ll have your meeting with the Chokesari.”

  Cole let out a tired breath. It might have been a small victory, but it felt good to have one at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The Amriany proved to be gracious hosts, offering their guests a place to sleep and food to eat. Due to the instant time change they’d experienced in their unusual travel method, the Skinners were barely able to fall asleep long enough for it to be considered a nap. The rest of the time was spent varnishing weapons, cleaning guns, and limbering up with the normal exercise routines. Paige mixed up some more healing serum and prepared a batch of the tattooing ink she’d invented. Even though Cole had given the stuff its first successful field test when fighting Lancroft, she was still unable to use it. Daniels couldn’t be sure if the good ink would interact with whatever remained of the bad ink that still might be trapped in her wounded arm, and she wasn’t about to risk it by being as impatient as he’d been when her arm was wounded in the first place.

  Cole had just finished taking inventory on what Daniels sent along with him when he found Paige standing outside going through a series of steps with her weapons, intended to strengthen her arm. He stood behind her and to one side, taking in the sight of her lithe body going through its well-practiced motions against a backdrop of a red and orange sky. Being so far away from a big city, his breaths were like a spray of cold water cleaning the grit from lungs infected by too many years of urban living. “Tristan told me something interesting before we left,” he said.

  Paige’s weapons were in their blunted form, but she swung them as if they’d sprouted the deadly blades that had cut short so many werewolves’ lives. “Let me guess. Pole climbing tips? Be sure to let me know when you’re gonna attempt that.”

  “Not exactly. She told me not to let you feed me anymore. What’s that mean?”

  Her next swing snapped to a sharp conclusion with the right-handed weapon pointing directly in front of her. “I’m not the one who said it, Cole.”

  “But you know what it means.”

  She resumed her exercises, launching into a series of circular swings that turned both weapons into a blur as they struck and parried an invisible opponent.

  “Let me see your arm.”

  It wasn’t an unfamiliar request, and Paige had long ago given up discouraging him from checking on her from time to time. Allowing her one-sided sparring match to point her in his direction, she extended her right arm and said, “It’s been doing a lot better ever since I’ve been able to get my weapon to make the right shape again. Maybe it’s got something to do with the Breaking Moon. Didn’t you say that Skinners draw from the Torva’ox too?”

  Cole wasn’t interested in what she was saying and he didn’t bother looking at the arm she’d offered. “Not that arm.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with the other one,” she said with a grin that dissolved as she took her arm back. Standing in a way that kept her left side away from him, she asked, “What’s this about?”

  “I thought I’d just gotten used to the pain,” Cole said. “Thought I’d toughened up enough to keep it from bothering me.”

  “You have toughened up,” she mused. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, big boy.” He grabbed her wrist then. Though she pulled against his grip, it took her two tries to break lose. That meant he had indeed been toughening up. “Let go of me,” she snapped.

  He felt the tendrils inside him constrict, which sent a jolt of adrenaline through his system, allowing him to snag her again. Knowing he wasn’t going to get much of a chance to examine her, he took advantage of this opportunity by twisting her arm so her wrist was exposed. There was nothing to mar her skin apart from a few little scars that had been there since a childhood run-in with a broken window.

  “Happy?” she asked while pulling away and turning her back to him.

  “You healed,” he told her. “And since you fought me so much just now, it means you were thinking there was a chance that I might have found something.” Walking around so he could see her face again, Cole asked, “What might I have found, Paige?”

  She let out a strained breath. “There wasn’t much of a choice. It was either help you or let you feed the normal way.”

  “What do I need help with? You know how much I like to eat.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about! I mean the shit inside of you that Hope’s Shadow Spore flunkie left behind.”

  “Yeah,” Cole said. “I just needed to hear you say it. So,” he sighed, “you’ve been feeding me blood when I wasn’t looking?”

  “When you’re asleep.”

  “Please tell me it was your blood.”

  “Yes,” she replied while looking down at her left wrist. “And usually from this arm. How’d you guess?”

  “Because I know how you feel about the right. Even though it’s healing, you still look like you want to saw it off sometimes. I’d like to think you’d give me the good stuff instead of blood you might think is tainted somehow.”

  “If the blood in my arm is tainted, it’s all tainted. It was a stupid idea to begin with.”

  The sun crested the horizon and spread its rays out as if to embrace the landscape below. A cold wind sliced across Cole’s face, bringing with it the taste of fresh dew along with a harsh seasonal chill. “And what was your idea, exactly? Keep those things alive inside of me while I thought I was getting better?”

  “I was keeping you alive, Cole. And in case you haven’t noticed, you weren’t getting any better.” Bringing up one of her weapons, she tightened her grip until the sickle blade formed into an implement she might use to take on a Full Blood. When she looked over at the weapon, it seemed as if the blade’s appearance was more of a surprise to her than it was to Cole. She snapped her arm down to send the weapon into the ground. A second later the other weapon was driven into the dirt directly beside it. “That wasn’t supposed to happen to you.”

  “Was it supposed to happen to you?”

  Ignoring that, she put her hands on her hips and stared at the sky as if waiting for the sun to challenge her. “We tried taking it out of you. Then I tried handing you over to someone who was supposed to help. That almost got you killed.”

  “You didn’t know I would be taken away from that first prison,” Cole
reminded her. “Believe me, when we narrow down exactly who in the Vigilant was responsible for that, you’ll have to wait your turn to kick their ass.”

  “I still don’t even know if Rico had anything to do with it.”

  “He didn’t.”

  She looked at him with critical eyes. “Are you sure about that?”

  “There’s no good reason to think he joined up with the Vigilant until after I broke out of that place in Colorado. He probably just decided they were the way to go after everything went to hell.”

  “Went to hell which time?” she asked with a tired laugh.

  For once, Cole didn’t reflect the slightest bit of humor after seeing her smile. “The most recent time,” he said. “If he wanted to hurt me, he would’ve just taken a swing at me in Louisville . . . or worse.”

  “Definitely worse,” she said with a nod, “but it would have been face-to-face.”

  “So why did you do it, Paige?”

  Either she was convinced there was no getting around it anymore or was too tired to try. “It wasn’t much. Just a little of my blood to keep the pain away whenever you were sleeping. After all I’ve done to you, all the pain I caused and shit I’ve put you through, I figured I owed you at least a little bit of comfort.”

  “What if I was trying to starve them out? Did you ever think of that? What if I was trying to get a handle on it?” With each question, Cole moved closer. His hands balled into fists out of sheer frustration with her, the conversation and everything else connected to the subject of the broken tendrils wrapped around his innards. “What if I was dealing with it myself?”

  “Dealing how? By feeding only when you absolutely had to? Look me in the eyes and tell me you’ve never fed on anyone.”

  Images flashed through Cole’s mind. He saw faces an inch away, staring at him in horror as he revealed himself to be the monster that every Skinner swore to destroy. It started with Hope back in Colorado, continued with an inmate when he was incarcerated, and included a few others who’d been cornered or knocked out at a time when he was simply too weak to resist and the tendrils cinched in like piano wire cutting into his intestinal tract. Maybe they’d even crept in to squeeze the arteries connected to his heart where the spore had been, but they somehow knew just how much pressure to apply without killing him. He’d had plenty of time to think of such things when he was alone or just about to drift off to sleep. That brought him back to the present and to the one person who was supposed to be the single constant in his life. “You’ve brought me more than just a little comfort just by being with me,” he told her.

  “And you’ve fed,” she whispered, as if the words themselves were forbidden. “You’ll keep feeding until we can find a way to fix you up.”

  “You can live with your wound. Why won’t you let me live with mine?”

  “Why won’t you let me help you?”

  Suddenly, Cole’s voice took a fierce tone: “Because I didn’t ask for it. Why were you ready to kill me when we all thought there was no way to get the spore out of me? Because you didn’t want me to become one of those bloodsuckers? What the hell does it make me, with you feeding me whether I know about it or not?”

  “It’s different, Cole. Right now . . . there’s just no more to be done. I even asked Tristan if she could donate more blood to draw the rest of those things out, but she said it wouldn’t do any good. I threatened her to get me some nymph blood, but she held her ground. She said she wouldn’t hand over a piece of herself or her sisters on such a dangerous whim. Her words. The crappy part is that I think she’s right. Those tendrils don’t have a brain attached to them anymore. You seemed hell-bent on letting them rip you apart inside until you snapped and fed again, but I couldn’t stand for either one of those things to happen so I told her I’d take care of you myself.” She pressed her fingers to her temples and rubbed while muttering, “I never should have said anything about it to anyone.”

  “When was that?”

  “I don’t know, Cole. A while ago. And take that angry look off your face. She didn’t like keeping a secret from you, but trusted me to know what I was doing.”

  “She specifically told me to stop letting you feed me,” he reminded her. “Why do you think that is?”

  Paige sighed and reached down to pick up her weapons. There were signs of life coming from the Amriany house as well as the rest of the little homes scattered nearby. Once the weapons were shrunk back down to their smallest size, she placed them into the holsters on her boots. “She’s probably worried about them growing.”

  “Growing?” Suddenly, Cole felt the need to sit down. Since there wasn’t anyplace for him to do so, he squatted so he could put his elbows on his bent knees. “Growing into what? A full Nymar?”

  “I doubt it but I’m not sure. The plan was to get those things out of you before that happened. Be honest with me. Was it such a bad idea for me to do what I did? I mean, you don’t appear to be hurting nearly as much, and you barely even seem to think about the tendrils anymore. Maybe just a little bit of blood from a willing donor is all you need. I’m more than willing.”

  “That’s not the point! The point is that you did it without telling me!”

  “Would you have accepted it if I’d offered?” she asked. After a few seconds of silence between them, Paige said, “Didn’t think so. Part of that may be my fault. You know what I went through before I was a Skinner, and you would have never asked me to do something like this. And after the uprising, anything to do with Nymar kinda leaves a bad taste in our mouths.”

  “I don’t want to become one of those things, Paige,” he whispered. “Sometimes I can still feel that spore rooting around inside of me. It’s . . .”

  “Yeah. I know. It’s another reason I took the choice away from you. I’ve been asking anyone I know if there’s a way to fix someone in your condition, but I can’t ask around too much. Between the IRD and those Vigilant creeps, there are a whole lot of heavily armed paranoid people who don’t need much of an excuse to kill a vampire in their ranks.”

  “Oh Christ. Do you think Rico mentioned it to Jessup or any of those others in Louisville?”

  “No,” she said with absolute certainty. “If he had, you wouldn’t have been allowed to leave that place without a fight. And since we got out more or less like any other Skinner, I’m thinking Rico hasn’t crossed over into paranoid asshole territory. Well, no farther than when he threw a college kid through a window for having a tattoo and fake fangs one Halloween a few years ago. That also gives me a lot of hope that he hasn’t fully signed on with the Vigilant in general.”

  Cole laughed at the vivid image he’d been given.

  “I don’t know a way to cure you,” she continued, “and handing you over to outsiders didn’t work out so good. Daniels has been working on it ever since I almost staked you in his apartment, and if you knew of any way to get rid of those things, I’m sure you would have told me. You’ve told me of a few times when you were hurting and that time in prison when you fed, which means there must be other times in both categories that you didn’t tell me about. Am I right?”

  Once again Cole didn’t have a good answer for her. “So what would have happened if I never found out what you were doing? You just spring it on me when those tendrils get big enough to turn me into a proper Nymar?”

  “That wouldn’t have happened. Without a spore, the most they could do would be to get bigger or strangle you from the inside.”

  “Oh, that’s a relief,” Cole growled.

  “We’ll find a way out of this. I promise.”

  “And what if we don’t?”

  “Then you can nibble on me in your sleep. Or,” Paige added with a smirk, “you could try it when you’re awake.”

  For once Cole didn’t even begin to rise up to that occasion. As much as he loved it when she smiled that way, there was something else that made it impossible for him to enjoy the moment or the offer attached to it. “Let’s just not let it come to that, oka
y?”

  “It’ll get worse if you don’t feed,” she said. “It may not get as bad as if you had an actual spore inside you, but it’ll get worse. Daniels studied the tendrils on his own way before this happened, and he says they reflexively tighten when they go without blood from a source other than their host for too long.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that. You just have to trust that I’m strong enough to manage on my own.”

  She looked into his eyes in a way that made Cole feel as if she was staring all the way down to the thoughts he’d tried to cover. Placing a hand on his stomach and holding it there, she said, “It’s not a question of strength. It’ll hurt. A lot.”

  When he took hold of her wrist, he intended on moving her hand away, but changed his mind. Her skin felt too good against his fingers, and they’d both learned to take their comfort whenever they could get it.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  When they’d piled into the SUVs again, Cole thought the Amriany were taking him, Paige, and Waggoner back to the club where they were ushered into the country. But the small caravan turned eastward and headed into a small town called Imola. Although the rural setting was much different than what he was used to, the occasional glimpses of Half Breeds running to the right of the vehicles reminded him very much of home. To the left, however, there was once again nothing but trees.

  “What’s over there?” he asked while tapping the window.

  Sophie was behind the wheel, and she only had to look at where Cole was pointing before replying, “We avoid that place.”

  “Is it a forest?”

  Her interest sufficiently piqued, Paige leaned across him to get a look out Cole’s window. “Doesn’t look like enough trees to be a forest. Pretty, though.”