Whisper to Me (Borne Vampires Book 1)

by Petzler, W. M.

  “God, woman, you are like a dog with a bone.” Cursing under his breath, he grabbed his clothes. “The Laws were created to protect us, not condemn us.”

  “Really? Then explain why Slayers were ordered to kill a little girl whose only crime was being born different? Yes, Rathe, I remember everything that happened the night the people I thought were my parents were murdered. You know why they were killed? Because they were protecting me from the Slayers searching for a dhampir, for me, and they wouldn’t tell them where I was.”

  Rathe straightened, stunned. Struggling not to cry, she snarled, “Your laws cost me my family, tore apart my happy childhood, and most of all forced the man who had risked his life to protect me, who loved me so much that he had Relle cast the spell to make me forget him — to protect me. So, screw you and those precious laws you hold so dear to your heart!” She stormed to the door and jerked it open.

  “Mariah, wait!”

  She ignored him and flew into the air. Needing time alone, away from him and the world she was thrust into, she flew back to her house. Shivering, she realized she was cold. How was it possible a vampire could be cold?

  Freezing and still pissed, she stomped upstairs, and changed into a t-shirt and her jeans, pulling on wool socks. Lacing on her sneakers, she opened her closet and took out her pea wool coat, pulling it on. Warm at last, she went outside to where they had buried Tereza.

  “I wish you were here, Tereza. I need your wisdom, your advice how to proceed with my life. I am clueless how to fight this war I’ve been made part of — a war where both sides have made major mistakes and too many have lost their lives because of it.”

  “Mariah, return to me now,” Rathe demanded, sounding really pissed off. “It’s not safe for you being about alone!”

  Before she could tell him off, the smell of burnt hair, combined with Death, wafted on the wind. “No!” She made to pull her gun, realizing she’d left it at the cabin.

  He stepped out from behind the tree near her. A macabre of blackened and bloodied skin, his charred features grisly, he leered at her. “Mariah,” Jarrod wheezed out through blistered lips, “did you miss me?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Patches of singed, long hair stuck out on his burned, red and festering, scalp. Greenish-black ooze dripped from open sores on his face and neck. His once white suit burned, stained with his dead blood.

  “You died! I felt your pain!”

  “It's amazing,” he rasped out, “how a little fire can prompt a vampire into doing the most amazing things, like surviving.” His eyes narrowed. “You have been a very naughty girl, Mariah. As your uncle, I feel you should be punished. For your own good, of course.” Jarrod laughed at his joke.

  She made to run, skidded to a halt when he leapt in front of her. She should have known a vampire as old as Jarrod would be faster, far more powerful than her, even injured as he was.

  “What the hell do you want from me?” She mentally reached out to Rathe and flashed him Jarrod standing in front of her.

  Jarrod grabbed her arms, shaking her violently. “See me, Rathe? See what your justice has done to me? I've got your woman, imagine where my men are. Who do you save, your sister or your whore?”

  Reaching out to her daughter, she forced her awake. “Kai, wake up!”

  “Mom,” Kai asked sleepily, “what’s wrong?”

  “Kai, the Damned are coming your way! Tell Anya and Faeroes. I'm sending Rathe to you.” She switched back to him. “Rathe, save my child and your family!”

  “No! I won't leave you to face Jarrod alone.”

  “Go,” she shouted. “Save Mina and Kai. Do not let the Damned take them!” Hearing his roar of fury, she focused on the monster in front of her. Dropping her fangs, she snarled at him. “I’ve had just enough of your bullshit, Uncle. You want a fight, bring it on!”

  “Ah, Mariah, you have become a truly a magnificent vampiress. Whilst I am this-this freak of nature.” He laughed bitterly at his own pitiful appearance. “Ah, but once I drain you and that sweet brat you birthed, I shall be stronger, and I will destroy Rathe this time.”

  “Why haven’t you healed yourself?”

  “I am unable to go to ground and heal myself properly. I am sentenced to eternal unrest when I lost my soul.” He seemed to mourn his inability to return to the earth. “Mariah, you are the only one who can save me. Please, be mine,” Jarrod pleaded, his hand gripping her arm tightened, grinding her flesh into the bone.

  Refusing to show he hurt her, she lifted her chin defiantly. “Never. Rathe says it’s the demon inside us that make us do evil things. You embraced it willingly, and there’s no coming back from what you’ve done to human and Borne alike.”

  Fury shifted his burnt features into a festering mask of death. Sneering past rows of teeth, Jarrod slurred, “If you cannot bring my soul back, then I shall take yours!” He made to sink his teeth in her, but she was quicker and punched him hard in the chest, sending him crashing into the tree behind him.

  Seizing her freedom, she launched into the air. Jarrod shrieked his rage, leaping in the air after her. Speeding faster, she linked with Rathe. Through his eyes, she saw him and Faeroes fighting the Damned, who were armed with knives and claws, nothing compared to the swords the Slayers used. Green blood and gore smeared the once pristine snow. Anya and Simon leapt into the battle, chopping off heads and limbs as they hacked their way through the demon vamps. Another horde of thugs rushed them.

  “Rathe, I’m coming to you, and Jarrod is right on my ass.”

  “Land in front of the house and run inside. I’ll stop him from following you in.”

  Arriving at the cabin, she passed Rathe, hit the snowy ground at a dead run like he told her. Rathe tackled Jarrod, the force sent them tumbling past her. Running inside the cabin, she slammed the door shut, locking it. She turned and found Lydia, holding a sword, looking terrified.

  “Where are Mina and Kai?”

  “Upstairs.”

  “Get up there and stay with them. I’ll protect you down here.” The picture window shattered as a vampire jumped through it, tackling her down to the floor.

  Grabbing her attacker by his throat, struggling to keep his sharp teeth from tearing into her throat, she jerked back when he started howling in pain. She managed to throw the thrashing vampire off her, sending him flying across the living room. His back was on fire. Kai held a bottle of Holy water, her eyes wide as the vampire climbed to his feet. Face contorting, teeth filled his mouth, the vamp growled at them, green-frothed drool dripped down his chin.

  “I'll eat your heart out, bitch!” He pulled out a hunting knife, advancing on them.

  Lydia yelled, “Here!” She tossed her the sword.

  Catching it, she said with a cold smile, “You're welcome to try.”

  Instinct took over. She easily met the oncoming blade, ducking and diving in, cutting him. When the vampire faked to the right, she stabbed her blade through his heart. Snarling, she yanked out the blade. The vampire screamed, mortally wounded, the purity of the silver in the blade was a searing pain equal to the holy water burning his flesh. He collapsed on his knees, holding his chest as greenish-black blood gushed out the wound. Taking pity on him, she raised the sword high, chopping off the vampire's head.

  “Kai, give me your bottle.” She caught the bottle and sprinkled the blessed water on the lifeless body as she spoke a prayer for him, to release his tortured existence. In an explosion of flames, the body turned to ash.

  “Mom, what do we do?” Kai took the silver cross Mina handed her.

  “You, three, head back upstairs and lock the door. Watch the windows!” She turned and felt a sharp poke and realizes a sword tip was pressed to her heart. Looking up, she gasped, recognizing the vampire holding the broadsword.

  He had a cell phone to his ear. “I have them. Kill them.”

  “Why?” Kai demanded. “Why did you save us yesterday, if you planned to kill us all along?”

  His eyes wide
ned as he stared at her daughter. Kai drew back, surprise on her young face.

  Unsure what was happening, Mariah asked him, “Alexander, why are you doing this to us?”

  His gaze dropped to hers. Sadness and regret was replaced by cold determination. “Kai, Mina, go upstairs.” When they refused, he barked, “Now!” When they obeyed, he nodded to the door.

  “Let's go outside, shall we?”

  ✝✝✝

  Rathe threw Jarrod off him, drawing his gun and shooting vamps as they rushed him. Jarrod attacked again, skidding to a halt when the blast of machine guns rose above the fighting. Recognizing the black-attired vampires, he prepared for them to shoot him and his family, but they didn’t. They were mowing down the demon vamps! And not with regular bullets either. Smoke trickled out of the wounds.

  Silver!

  Frantic, Jarrod yelled at them, “Stop shooting our men, you idiots!”

  The vampires ignored him. When none were left standing, they stopped shooting. Faeroes, Anya, and Simon made a skirmish line in front of the cabin when they advanced. The front door opened, and Mariah exited the cabin, her hands lifted in surrender. A vampire he’d never seen before followed her out, holding his sword aimed at her back.

  Anya snarled, “Son-of-a-bitch! I remember you now. Jarrod’s puppet boy. Alexander Walker!”

  Emerald-green eyes hardened, he smiled tightly at her. “Charming, as always, Anya.” Walker lowered his sword and laid a hand on Mariah’s shoulder. She lowered her hands and faced him. Rathe realized they were communicating telepathically. She nodded and moved behind him.

  Walker spoke to him, “Slayer, we meet at last. If you will permit me to formally introduce myself, I am Alexander Walker, formerly Jarrod's second in command. I have a proposition, would you care to hear it?”

  Pissed, Jarrod barked, “Alexander, what the hell are you doing?”

  “Why, my lord, I am ending this war.” Walker grinned, exposing white teeth, long fangs.

  “You were the one who ordered my children to leave Coeur d’Alene, didn’t you! Why?”

  “I wanted them out of Mariah’s way.”

  “What?” Obviously Jarrod wasn’t expecting that, and neither had he!

  “I wanted her to reach her daughter before you did. I’d figured you would investigate the plane crash; instead, you rushed to Idaho. I should have known the deaths of those you ordered created would not stop you in your blind quest to rule the world and possess Mariah.”

  Eyes narrowing, Jarrod tilted his head slightly. “Why are you concerned with my brides?”

  His calm demeanor erupted as Walker snarled, “You sick prick! Mariah is Aidan’s daughter, your flesh and blood. You planned to defile her and make her Damned! Have you sunk so low in your miserable existence you’ve forgotten your love for your brother — the love you should have had for Aidan’s only child?”

  Jarrod’s bloodshot eyes went wide. “You were the one who left Aidan to die! I will rip your heart out, you coward!”

  “Yes, I was there when the villagers came for him. I would have killed them all, but Aidan wanted Maria and his child saved. I owed him my life and to repay my debt, he ordered me to leave him to die, so they might live.”

  Jarrod paced back and forth, agitated. “So you are the one who saved Maria. Why didn’t you tell me you knew where she and her child were?”

  “To protect them is why! I swore to her as she lay dying, attacked by the human hunters you employed to find her, I would protect her daughter, even if it meant killing you.”

  Snorting, Jarrod put his hands on his hip. “You think to rule in my place, to be King of the Damned?”

  Lifting the broadsword in his hand, Walker laid it on his shoulder and grinned. “Consider this my resignation.”

  Suspicious of Walker’s motives, Rathe asked, “Why do you want a peace pact with the Slayers?”

  “I may be soulless, but that doesn't mean I want to end walking the earth. We are constantly dodging the vampire hunters not employed by Jarrod as well as the Slayers, who chose not to obey the disbandment order. I weary of the constant battle from both fronts. If I am to choose an enemy, I’ll gladly take vampire hunters over you any day.”

  Faeroes laughed at the vampire’s comment, making Rathe shake his head, smiling in spite of the serious situation. “You’ve got balls, Walker, to offer peace and make a stand against your own kind.”

  Cold, Walker stated flatly, “We have no kind. We exist, we die. That’s all we have to live for. At least while I was protecting Mariah and Kai, I had meaning in my life. Now they are in your hands, I have nothing.”

  Mariah shook her head. “That’s not true! You can fight with us, to stop the senseless killing of those falsely accused of turning. To protect the humans from being forced to become Damned. We can finally end this war between the Borne and Damned.”

  “Not if you’re dead, bitch!” Jarrod roared, racing toward her, his hands shifted to razor-sharp claws, raised to strike her down.

  Walker pushed her behind him and brought his sword down to defend her. Rathe sped around Jarrod and swung his sword, burying his blade deep into his neck, cutting through tissue and bone. Green blood arced across the snow as Jarrod’s head parted his body. Walker and Mariah stared at him as he strode to her. Taking her into his arms, holding her, he felt her trembling as he held her tight.

  Walker stabbed his sword into the snow and bent his head, as if he were saying a prayer. When he straightened, he glanced up at Kai and Mina, who were leaning out of the upstairs window. He blinked, visibly shaken when he and Kai’s eyes met.

  Mariah pulled the medallion over her head and reached for Walker’s hand and laid it so the cross pressed down into the center of his palm.

  No smoke, no burning.

  Too stunned to react, Walker stood there, staring at it as the silver medallion gleamed in response. Faeroes clapped him on the back. “I believe, my friend, you have a soul.” He laughed as Walker's eyes widened as the truth sunk in.

  “I was certain I’d lost my soul. What I’d done … those….” Walker fell silent, looking completely lost.

  Rathe stabbed his sword next to Walker’s, they were almost identical. “How long have you had your sword?”

  “Two hundred years. Why?” Walker’s eyes narrowed, his stance wary.

  “How did you come to possess a Slayer’s sword?”

  Green eyes darkened as Walker reached for his sword. “Won it in battle.”

  Slowly lifting his hands to deflect Walker’s readying to battle, he smiled. “You do know silver is intertwined in the hilt, so the Damned cannot wield our swords?”

  Walker straightened. “Silver?”

  “Didn’t Jarrod notice your sword bears the Latin inscription engraved in the blood gutter, ‘Damned will fall beneath the blade of the Slayer’? Didn’t Jarrod wonder how you could hold it without burning?”

  “Jarrod never knew of this sword. I brought it out to kill him when he found out Mariah was alive.” Stabbing the sword back in the ground, Walker stared at the medallion in his hand with an expression of awe and horror.

  The vampires circled Walker, staring at the medallion he held in his hand. One reached out his hand, before the others could stop him, and took the medallion. It didn’t burn him either. The rest took turns holding it.

  None were burned!

  Rathe couldn’t believe it. They were not demon vamps! “How did you keep your souls serving Jarrod?”

  The one who had taken the medallion first, replied proudly, “We served Alexander. He taught us that even though we were Damned, we did not have to succumb to the monster inside us. Honor and strength gave us purpose.”

  He handed Walker the medallion back. “Thank you, Alex, for saving us from Jarrod.”

  “Actually,” he handed the medallion back to Mariah, “if I hadn’t had Mariah in my life, I would have truly become Damned.”

  She closed his fingers around the medallion, smiling at him. “Alexander, it b
elongs with you. It’s served its purpose in protecting me. It should return to you.”

  “Mariah, please forgive me for leaving you and for the spell. I did not want to cheat you of your heritage. It is why I had Relle contain your vampire blood, in case you wanted to join us.”

  “I’m just sorry you had to serve my uncle. If only you knew the medallion was made of pure silver, you would have known you weren’t evil.”

  A small smile curved Walker’s mouth as he slipped the chain around his neck, tucking the medallion underneath his shirt. “I knew it was made of silver. I took it off when … well, it doesn’t matter now. I can wear it once more.”

  Rathe took Mariah’s hand in his, her beautiful eyes fierce. “We have been misled by the Laws of the Borne and worse — the teachings of my own father.”

  “We shall change that,” she said, “won't we?”

  “She's right, you know,” Walker said. “We have to stop the madness.”

  “I agree. First, let’s take care of the dead and set them free.”

  They left Jarrod for last. Gathered around his body, shoulder to shoulder, they formed a circle around the body. Rathe folded his hands. “Although he was a monster, evil beyond redemption, I chose to remember Jarrod when he was a man of honor: a Slayer and my friend.” He took the bottle of Holy water Mariah handed him and sprinkled it on Jarrod's body. Flames quickly engulfed it. “Be free, my friend. May Aidan be waiting for you on the other side.”

  In silence, they watched the breeze sweep up the ashes, carrying them away. Mariah wiped away her tears. They stared at her, astonished she cried for Jarrod.

  She explained, “All Jarrod wanted in the end was his soul back. He is at peace now.” Mariah took her daughter’s hand in hers. “Yes, we will make it right for those who were misled, like Alexander and his men were. However, to those who willingly gave up their souls — no mercy.” Her words were hard, filled with the determination of a Demon Slayer.

  Rathe was surprised when Walker and his men, including Faeroes, Anya, Mina, and Simon cheered her words. She was right. They were in for a war to save people, not execute them.