“Yet they’re still a different species from humans,” Blythe insisted.
“If they can interbreed with humans, it makes the Elah a new race, not a different species,” Nial said.
Blythe shuddered. “Why does it matter, anyway?” she muttered.
“It’s a distinction that will make a difference to many humans,” Nial replied. “It will make the Elah’s integration into human culture easier.”
“And harder,” Winter said. “Blythe isn’t the only one who will find human-Elah relationships hard to accept.”
Blythe jumped. “You make me sound like a bigot.”
Nial shrugged. “You can’t help what you feel.”
Blythe stared at him. The dry answer was a product of the same ruthless mindset she had seen him display while hunting. He could look truth in the face and deal with it without flinching, no matter how unpalatable.
“That’s not fair, Nial. Simone is her daughter,” Winter protested. “Blythe is only trying to protect her.”
“No, he’s right,” Blythe said. She could feel everything shift in her mind, letting her see it differently. “I’ve been freaking out over Simone wanting to date a boy that is no more different than the black kid next to him, or the Puerto Rican on the other side. I wouldn’t have any issues about her dating either of them.”
“The problem isn’t you,” Nial said. “It’s everyone else, including teenagers who don’t know how to mind their own business.”
Blythe nodded. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You could be borrowing trouble,” Winter said quietly. “Maybe Simone will become the coolest girl in school because of this.”
“If Simone doesn’t give a damn what anyone else thinks, then their power over her evaporates,” Nial added. “Most teenagers are ruled by the need to conform, but she is your daughter. Perhaps she can rise above the peer pressure.”
Blythe let out a breath. Calm descended. Nial had handed Blythe the key to resolving this. Simone was strong. All of her kids were strong. They’d had to be, growing up without a father.
Then the three of them clattered into the kitchen, the volume of noise in the room leapt. Blythe could spare no more time thinking about anything except enjoying time with her kids, while she had the chance.
Nothing was a guarantee these days. All three of them would soon become adults and build their own lives. Everything was uncertain, now. Every day was precious. Even an hour over a noisy breakfast table, with Jake trying to steal all the pancakes, was a gift.
Chapter Fourteen
Even though it was eight in the morning, the heat of the coming day was already more than a promise. It was gathering in the air, thickening it, drying out plants that had just been watered.
When they withdrew from the kitchen because of Patrick’s family’s need for the table, Nial led Winter and Kate out into the conservatory, only here, with the sun already blasting through the glass roof, it was already uncomfortably hot.
So they moved on, Kate holding up the hem of her robe with one hand so she didn’t drag it in the dirt and juggling her coffee mug with the other.
Outside, the sun had not yet quite risen above the edge of the conservatory roof, so the light spilling over the still and silent pool was shot with colors from the sun filtering through the glass.
Nial turned to face them. “Where’s Sebastian?” he asked shortly.
“Asleep already, I’m sure,” Winter said. She wished she was beside him, only Nial had insisted on a full report about the Elah child as soon as he had emerged from the shower. Now, the day was extending even later. She said none of what she was thinking.
More and more often, lately, Winter found herself editing what she said to Nial. She knew why, too. She suspected Nial was not even aware of it. While the average human had many blind spots and weaknesses, Nial had only one.
Since Sebastian had been injured last year, Winter had watched Nial close up, gathering and shoring up his defenses. He had not spoken to her about it at all. He was old-fashioned. He didn’t believe in sharing his problems—most especially with those he loved. If he was even aware of the problem in the first place.
It had taken most of the year for Winter to realize that he couldn’t see it. After millennia of learning how to live forever, he had fallen prey to a very human response to threat.
He was in full defense mode and would stop at nothing to make sure Sebastian remained safe. Winter was inside that protective shield he was trying to build around the three of them, only it was not her who had been injured. It was not her that Nial thought of whenever he was awake, planning his plans. He had become obsessed about ending the war. It drove everything he did.
He was looking at both her and Kate, now, only Winter wasn’t sure he was seeing either one of them.
“Everyone’s schedules are too fractured to get all of us together at the same time to talk about this, so we’ll do it the old way,” Nial said. “Kate, if you could pass this on to Garrett and Roman? I’ll talk to Patrick and Blythe and Dominic.”
Winter saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned her head. Azarel was standing at the door of the pool house, looking at them where they were gathered at the shallow end of the pool.
She waved him forward. “One less person to tell,” she said to Nial, as Azarel moved around the pool to join them.
Nial frowned. “I’m not sure…”
“The Serene Ones must know everything, Nial,” Kate said softly. “You can’t select what they get to see. You want them to judge us for what we really are, don’t you?”
Nial sighed and nodded. “At least he looks sober this morning,” he said shortly.
Azarel nodded as he came up to them. He was wearing pants and a simple shirt and no shoes. Winter wondered how long it had been since he shaved. They’d had to teach him how to do that. Dominic’s rendition of Azarel’s first encounter with a razor had been hilarious. For several months, Azarel had remained clean-shaved. When had that changed? Winter couldn’t remember the last time he had appeared with a clear chin.
She couldn’t remember the last time he had accompanied anyone on a hunt, either. He had seemed to lose interest in anything to do with the war. The mindless pursuits of a teenager were more his style these days. Drugs, women, booze and music.
Nial had been philosophical about Azarel’s retreat. “He’s experimenting. Figuring it out, just like any young adult.”
Azarel looked at Nial expectantly. He didn’t smile. Not that he smiled much around Nial, anyway. “Your night’s hunt went well?”
“No,” Nial said flatly. “There are too many Summanus and not enough of us. Except that was last night.” He waved the question away and said, “It’s nearly September.”
“If schools were still running the old system, the kids would be heading back next week,” Kate said. “And we would all be breathing a sigh of relief.”
During the January that had just passed, the state school authority had cut school attendance hours down to four core hours in the middle of the day, so kids could get to school and arrive home during daylight hours. As a result, the spring break and longer summer vacation were abandoned. School was all year round, now. Only on public holidays were they closed.
Blythe’s three kids had screamed and kicked in protest, as Winter imagined kids everywhere had done. Not a single parent disputed the change.
Nial shook his head. “Fall,” he said flatly. “Cooler weather.”
Winter drew in a sharp breath. “Hatching season,” she said, remembering the bloody, deathly night of terror they had gone through last year, when they had been caught completely unprepared for the locust-like descent of millions of newly hatched and ravenous Summanus hatchlings. They had fed upon anything with a pulse, anything they could reach.
Winter shivered. “We should start looking for larva soon.”
Azarel didn’t look puzzled or uncertain. When it came to the Summanus, Winter suspected he knew more about them
than they did. It was the minor human details like shaving that were unknown to him.
“We still don’t know what to do with the hatchlings, when we find them,” Kate pointed out.
“I had a thought about that last night,” Nial said, confirming that while he was mechanically mowing down Summanus with his sword, he was mentally working five moves ahead of everyone else. “Marcus’ return made me think of it,” he admitted. “What do you think Pyrrhus would do to the larva?”
Horror burst through her. “No, you can’t, Nial,” Winter said quickly. “It’s far too dangerous, too volatile!”
“It’s a weapon that the Summanus don’t have,” Nial said calmly. Winter suspected he had considered every argument she might have against the use of the Pyrrhus, hours ago. He would have counters for every objection she made.
Still, she had to say it. She wasn’t going to just give up. “So the Pyrrhus eats through the larva and kills them,” she said flatly. “Then it eats through the wall behind them. They like the concrete walls in the culverts. So we dissolve whole culverts and shut down the city’s water supply, just to get at them?”
“It’s not just the culverts. What about the kids who might find the residue, afterward?” Kate said. “Pyrrhus has a three day half-life. You’re proposing we spray around like weed-killer a chemical that will chew off a kid’s sneakers, then start burning through the soles of their feet.” Kate swallowed. “Hands, too. What if they rub their eyes when the stink of the larva gets to them? They’ll go blind.”
Winter’s heart sank. “I haven’t thought of that, yet. That’s even worse.”
Nial’s expression didn’t change. “We could get rid of nearly a hundred percent of this year’s batch of Summanus. It would be a huge blow to them. Maybe even a fatal one.”
“It would be just as damaging for us,” Kate said flatly.
“It would be an insane risk,” Winter added. “Nial, you’re not seriously thinking we should do this, are you?”
Nial drew in a breath. “We’re running out of things to try,” he said softly. “And I think we’re running out of time.”
“You’re saying the Summanus are winning?” Winter breathed.
Nial’s jaw flexed. “No,” he said, his tone flat. “Even if they were I would not say it. I refuse to even consider it. Only…what is that expression, about a last chance?”
“They call it the Hail Mary pass in football,” Dante said, from behind Winter.
She glanced over her shoulder. He was as barefooted as Azarel and just as scruffy around the chin, although the symptoms of a hangover she had expected to see were not there. His dark eyes were twinkling.
“I heard most of that. I don’t know what this Pyrrhus is, that you two ladies seem to think is so evil.”
“It is evil,” Winter told him. “Marcus invented it. It eats through everything except for glass and a couple other materials. If there’s more than a cupful of the stuff, it can be made to explode and it’s stronger than TNT.”
“Why hasn’t every hunting unit the world over been given this stuff?” Dante demanded.
“It’s incredibly unstable,” Winter protested. “Not as bad as nitroglycerin, but getting there.”
Dante shook his head. “Nial is right. It’s a Hail Mary. We could turn the war around with it.”
“At what cost?” Winter demanded. “The consequences of using Pyrrhus in the volume we’d need to defeat the entire Summanus population would be untold destruction and deaths.”
“Maybe that’s a price we have to pay,” Nial said quietly.
Kate shook her head.
“No,” Winter said flatly. “It’s too much.”
Azarel frowned. “This chemical, this Pyrrhus…” he said. “It would give you certain victory?”
Winter shook her head. “I don’t give a fig what it would give us. I don’t care if the stuff is guaranteed to win the war for us. It’s too high a price, Nial.”
“You’d rather die?” he asked, his tone harsh.
Winter flinched.
Azarel looked at her. “She would,” he said, wonderingly. “Rather than use a weapon that would gain victory for you.”
Winter’s eyes were stinging. She blinked. The last thing she wanted to do was cry, especially in front of Nial, in this mood—this dark, sealed-up mood he had been in for nearly a year. “It’s not worth it,” she repeated.
Kate squeezed her arm. “I agree,” she said, her voice low.
“I think I’d want to know a bit more about the stuff first,” Dante added. “Before I start tossing it around.”
Nial shook his head. “Very well,” he said, his voice dry. “We’ll find another way to deal with hatching season. The time is coming, though, when moral qualms will no longer be a good enough reason.”
“They should be!” Winter cried. “Always! What are we, if we throw morals and values out the window at the first sign of trouble?”
Nial’s expression didn’t change an inch. “Survivors,” he said flatly.
Winter shook her head. Her tears spun away into the air on either side of her. “So we survive. What will we be then? Because we won’t be human anymore.”
“I’m not human,” Nial said harshly.
Winter wiped her cheeks. Her hand was shaking. Too late to wish this conversation was happening somewhere where no one could see her humiliation and the fear Nial was building in her.
Perhaps he saw her terror, too, because he seemed to relent. Something in his face softened. “I swore I would protect you,” he said gently. “You and Sebastian, both. Did you think I would not live up to that promise? Do you think I would not do anything, in order to keep you safe?”
Winter bit her lip. “You’re making a decision on behalf of the rest of the world. Maybe they don’t want to pay the price you are.”
Nial looked at Kate. “You think Garrett and Roman would hesitate for even a second, if you were in danger?”
Kate looked troubled. “I can’t answer that,” she said. “I don’t think they could, either. I’m not in danger right now.”
“Yes, you are,” Nial said flatly. “No one seems to truly understand in their bones how very close to danger we all are. We’re living almost normal days, in the same houses we were living in a few years ago. There are no bombs or descending armies. No tanks rattling the suburbs. You’re all complacent. You see it on TV at night, only you’ve grown up seeing wars on TV and they were always such a long way from here. Now, they’re not. The war is right here. Right in your homes, right out on the street out there. Yet you can’t adjust.” He shook his head.
Winter swallowed and her throat clicked with dryness. Nial had lived through far too many wars. He knew exactly how they happened, how they crept into the very fabric of people’s lives, just before tearing them apart.
“Is it really that bad?” she asked him. Her voice was weak.
“If you ask Rory about this, she’ll break down the odds for you,” Dante said, his voice calm. “Just don’t ask her just before bed. You won’t sleep.”
Nial brought his hand to Winter’s face. His fingertips slid over her cheek and along her jaw. “I won’t insist we use the Pyrrhus on the hatchlings,” he said. “Although we should be smart. We should have a store of the stuff on hand, just in case.”
“That’s what the Russians said, all through the cold war,” Kate pointed out.
“Because the Americans had the bombs, too,” Nial replied. “It was a stalemate. The Summanus don’t have Pyrrhus. If they happen to find out we do, then it will make them hesitate and that might be enough.”
Winter sighed. She wasn’t happy about the idea of the Pyrrhus existing at all. It just seemed incredibly naïve to not make sure they had it stashed, anyway.
Kate shook her head. “You’re going to ask Marcus to make it, when Pyrrhus killed Cyneric? You have more courage than I realized, Nial.”
“Nah, it’s not courage,” Dante said.
Nial glanced at him.
> “What, then?” Kate demanded sharply.
Nial shrugged. “I refuse to lose. I have too much at stake.”
“I think I saw Marcus coming downstairs when I came out here,” Dante said. “I’d like to hear what he says when you ask him.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rory luxuriated in a long, hot shower, letting the tension of the night’s hunt drain away with the water. She had been used to leading her own unit, just as Dante did, while here she was a subordinate, taking orders from a man who had been human just over a year ago and was a movie industry icon, to boot.
She had seen the TV and Internet clips of Patrick Sauvage heading out to hunt at night, while the entertainment shows creamed themselves over his new found status as a warrior in truth. The big sword on his back had become as iconic as he was.
It had been a shock to Rory to find out that Patrick was not just a pretty face for the cameras. He really did coordinate six hunting units across the western Hollywood hills, as well as leading one of them himself. Rory had to admit that from what she had seen last night, he was a remarkably able hunter. He had a knack for anticipating the Summanus. That probably came from trying to empathize with and understand a huge range of characters over the years. Putting himself into another person’s boots and mind came naturally to him.
Not that the Summanus were in any way people, yet the skill transferred, just the same. Dominic’s ability to track the Summanus mental signature almost as though he had a mental radar, made him and Patrick a formidable partnership.
It had taken Rory most of the night to understand that she could trust Patrick to give sane and reasonable orders. Even Nial followed Patrick’s directions without question. If he had any doubts, he didn’t express them. Nial, Garrett and Roman, the three most senior vampires in Patrick’s hunting cadres, were all intermittent volunteers, pulled away by other demands, often without notice, so Patrick was the natural and most suitable leader. He was dedicated to the task.
Blood Ascendant (Blood Stone Book 5) Page 15
