“So you brought your captors with you?”
“Not… enemies of… Shadows…help.”
A deep female voice cut in, accented in something Katelina couldn’t place, “Enough, Sushel. I’ll finish this.”
The thin, dark haired male from the woods stormed back through the door, his mask off and his face crumpled in fury. He glared at them and then disappeared through the other doorway.
The voices in the next room dropped, and Katelina could barely hear them. She knew the vampires could, but with their burned lips they weren’t going to tell her. She pieced together that the owner of new voice was going to look at the prisoners herself.
A tall, busty blonde strode through the doorway and stopped in front of them, her hands on her hips. She was attractive in an odd way, not beautiful except for the grace immortality gave her, but interesting. What Katelina first took for a birthmark on her cheek, she quickly realized was a scar. She also noticed part of the vampiress’ ear was missing. Like the others she wore a clingy black outfit and boots.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
Without thinking, Katelina snapped back, “If you want them to answer, you should let them heal first.”
The vampiress tapped an impatient foot. “Then you can speak for them, human.” She motioned to some of her underlings. They grabbed Katelina’s arms and pulled her to her feet. Jorick growled low and angry, and they let her go and stepped away.
The blonde was so tall, she had to look down to meet Katelina’s eyes. “I say again, who are you? Why are you here?”
She debated whether to tell the truth or not, and finally decided she should—to a point. “We came because Ume said you’d have information on the Children of Shadows.”
“Why are you interested in them?”
“Because someone we once knew has joined them.”
“Who?”
When Katelina didn’t answer, the blonde leaned so close she could feel her breath on her face. “It is my decision whether you live or die. Now answer me.”
Katelina drew back a step and met her angry glare with one of her own. She was too mad to contemplate her position, or how much danger she was really in. “You should answer some of our questions first!”
The vampiress held her eyes, and finally leaned back and crossed her arms. “You have some, how do you say, guts for a mere human. You have two questions, use them wisely.”
Katelina blinked in startled disbelief. She hadn’t expected that to work, and now she didn’t know what to say. She looked to Jorick for help, and the vampiress said, “You answered the questions, so you ask the questions, not them.”
She was sure it was a test, and just as sure she’d fail. What in the hell had she been thinking?
She sifted through her terrified thoughts and asked, “Why were the Children of Shadows at a marina in Indonesia?”
“A good question. They were hunting one called Wolfe.”
Wolfe? Katelina lost what little steam she’d had. “Why would they be after Wolfe?” The words were out before she could stop them and she grimaced. She’d planned to put more thought into her second question!
“Because they were ordered to. Now it’s my turn. Who is it you used to know?”
The vampiress’ answer was lousy, so Katelina gave one that was equally vague. “He was an Executioner from America.”
“Does he have a name?”
“Why did the Father of Shadows order them to attack Wolfe?”
The vampiress smiled a slow, appreciative smile. “The Father is no longer in command.”
The answer left Katelina flailing again. “Then who is?”
“One called Cyprus. Now you answer two questions. Who is it that you know?”
She was left gaping. So Cyprus wasn’t working for Samael at all. He’d taken over the group on his own. “Actually, it’s Cyprus.”
“Interesting. And you would like to stop him?”
“Maybe,” Katelina murmured.
“Such commitment. And why do you want to—maybe—stop him?”
She was lost for a reason. As Jorick always said, it wasn’t their problem and yet… “Because no one else is doing it.”
“A good answer, if not a little incorrect. It will suffice.” The vampiress stepped back and swept her eyes over her prisoners. “The sun is up and it is long past our waking hours. You will be untied and given places to sleep, however if even one of you ventures violence you will all be slain.” She turned away and gave short, quick orders in a foreign language. Then, she paused in the doorway and looked back. “I will make us even, human, and answer the question you did not ask. My name is Fethillen, leader of the Black Vigil, and it is my life’s mission to bring to ruin all Memnon created, including the Children of Shadows and all who stand with them.”
Chapter Eleven
Once they were untied, Micah tended to Loren. The teen’s skin was burned and brittle, like overcooked turkey. In places it had come away, revealing a mixture of bloody raw flesh and cooked meat. Katelina gagged at the sight, and buried her face against Jorick. She felt the intake of his breath and pulled away reluctantly. He had what amounted to a bad sunburn and his skin was tender.
Micah asked the nearest ninja-style vampire for blood, but the terse reply was that the teen would heal as he slept. “We don’t have much to spare.”
“It’s your fucking fault we’re like this!” Micah paused to wipe the blood from his cracked lips.
“You shouldn’t have fought us, then we’d have come back sooner, and my brothers would still be alive.”
With that angry pronouncement, several other vampires led them to a low back room lit by another string of Christmas lights. Instead of coffins, the members of the Black Vigil apparently slept on the floor in a communal sleeping room, with no bedding. Micah carried Loren, and though he laid him down gently the teen cried out. His cry trailed off into agonized sobs and Katelina glared through the gloom at every member of the secret group.
“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” Micah said stiffly, his voice dry and brittle. He turned to Katelina. In the semi-dark, the pale light accented his blistered skin and shone in his eyes. When he spoke his bloody teeth gleamed, like some medieval demon. “Lunch. Give him some blood.”
Jorick went stiff next to her. “Leave her alone.”
“She can spare some.”
“Not enough,” Jorick said.
Katelina laid her hand on him and as quickly took it back. “Micah’s right. Loren’s the worst off. Maybe a little would help.”
“He’ll heal as he sleeps,” Jorick said.
“You sound like them.” She nodded to the nameless vampires who were bedding down for the night. Loren gave a muffled sob and her mind was made up. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
Jorick’s low growl gave his opinion, but she ignored it and crawled to the teen. “Loren? Loren, here.” She held her wrist toward his face, but he made no move for it. “Loren?”
Micah roughly grabbed her arm, and she cried out as he tore into it with his teeth. He jammed her bleeding wrist in Loren’s face just as Jorick tackled him to the ground, fangs flashing.
“It’s okay,” she assured Jorick, then turned back to Loren, ignoring the throbbing pain. The teen stirred, and Katelina tried to find his mouth. She brushed against his face and the surface came away. She swallowed a mouthful of bile and tried again. Loren groaned. She heard him snuffle and then he clamped on.
She bit her lip and forced back a cry as he sucked. She imagined she could hear him swallowing her blood in long, hungry gulps. As one followed another, they grew faster and harder.
Just as when Jorick bit her, there was a soft murmuring in the background of her mind. Faint images stirred, but she couldn’t make them out, like photos overexposed in the sunlight. Unlike Jorick, there was no euphoria, not even the agonizing pain a vampire could cause. Vampires could do what they wanted with the connection, but Loren didn’t bother to do anything, as if he didn’t even acknowl
edge it in his hunger.
Her hand started to tingle. The sensation moved up her arm, and her head swam. She tried to pull away and he shifted and grabbed her wrist. She pulled harder. “Loren! Loren, that’s enough. Stop! Stop!”
Jorick growled and ripped the teen off of her. Katelina fell back, and pressed a hand to her bleeding wrist. Jorick threw the boy to the floor. Loren wiped the blood from his lips and chin and thrust it in his mouth with shaking fingers. Though he was still burned and blistered, even Katelina could see he was better.
Jorick snarled. “Didn’t that go well?”
Micah bent over the teen and Katelina scooted across the floor, away from them. The Black Vigil vampires stared openly, and she flushed and looked away.
Jorick was next to her. He bit into his arm, held it out to her and barked, “Drink. It will stop the bleeding.”
She felt self-conscious in front of the others, but her throbbing wrist was enough to override her embarrassment. She took his arm, and hesitantly sealed her lips around the wound. The warm, spicy blood filled her mouth and she forgot about everything else. She swallowed quickly, repeating again and again. Images flickered behind her eyelids. Voices, laughter, and screams, played in the background like a garbled mix tape. She concentrated on them, trying to make something clear, trying to—.
He pulled away from her and she was left reaching after him, her mouth open. The dark room and its occupants burst into her consciousness and she quickly wiped her mouth and dropped her hands with a mixture of shame and embarrassment.
In the silence, she heard a soft, dry voice that sounded like Oren, “You’re all right?”
Katelina couldn’t believe he’d ask after anyone, and when Etsuko answered, “Yes, Oren-sama. Do not be concerned for me,” she nearly choked.
“He’s not a monster,” Jorick rasped near her ear. “Now can we go to sleep?”
“It would be nice,” an unknown vampire called. Katelina scowled in their direction and bit back an angry retort.
With a final, furious glare at the Black Vigil in general, she stretched out on the cool stone floor next to Jorick. He put an arm over her, though he didn’t pull her to him. She wondered if she shouldn’t have given him some blood. He was her boyfriend, not Loren.
“No,” Jorick whispered. “Sleep.”
She knew it hurt him to talk, so she closed her eyes and prayed that rest really would heal them.
She was only partially asleep when a nearby whisper woke her. She rolled over to see Ume kneeling next to Loren. A glass bottle glinted in her hand. “I know it isn’t much, but it’s all I could get.”
Micah snatched it, popped the lid, and took a healthy gulp before he helped Loren to sit up and drink the remainder.
“I’m sorry,” Ume whispered. “I didn’t expect them to attack us and I…I didn’t think about the sun. I forget that not everyone is like us. We don’t accept outsiders who are already turned, and Fethillen insists she or one of the inner circle turn all the new recruits, so we’re all from the same bloodline. We’re all sun walkers, like Fethillen is.”
Micah continued to glare and Loren fought the bottle away from his mouth to croak, “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”
Micah forced Loren to drink again and Ume laid a fluttering hand on the teen’s shoulder. “I really am sorry, Loren.” Katelina couldn’t see his face, but she imagined he was beaming.
Ume looked at the point of saying something else, but she turned away and let her eyes roam over the others, stopping at last on Verchiel. “Is he all right?”
“Your boyfriend’s better than us, if that’s what you mean,” Micah snapped.
Ume bit her lip and carefully crept around the others to kneel next to the redhead. She reached for him, hesitated, and then finally laid a hand on his arm. He didn’t move and she pulled back and dropped into a sitting position, her knees pulled up to her chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean for any of this.”
Micah grumbled and busied himself with Loren, and Ume hugged herself. In the dim light Katelina could see tears sparkling on her cheeks.
Verchiel’s voice came so soft and low that Katelina could barely hear it, “We’ll be fine.”
“But you hate me now,” Ume whispered. “All of you, and you… You can’t even remember anything to set against it.”
His sigh was so quiet it sounded like a breath. “I might remember something.”
Ume perked up and her violet eyes went wide. “Really? But I thought you didn’t.”
“I don’t know. It’s more the echo of a feeling than a memory. I noticed it at the island.”
“We used to live there,” Ume whispered. “In Batavia, I mean. Mother and Father died. I don’t remember what it was now, an illness of some kind. And you worked on the street—it was so long ago that it’s a hazy blur. But your hair. I remember when you dyed it because you used…you used something and it stained the basin and the wall and everything it came in contact with; like bright red blood, and I scrubbed and I scrubbed, but it wouldn’t come off. And then the dark woman came. She claimed she was free, and you…I don’t remember. But I know you spoke of her, and then you didn’t come home and someone said they’d seen you with her…” Ume trailed off in frustration. “It was so long ago.”
Verchiel sat up and met her gaze. “If you don’t remember, does it really matter?”
“Of course. It’s the past that defines who we are.”
He looked thoughtful. “Is it? Or is it the actions we do right here and right now that make a difference? What does it matter if someone was kind before if they’re cruel now? Does their past goodness excuse their evil?”
“That sounds like a riddle.”
“Maybe it is. Or maybe it’s simple. You shouldn’t ask yourself what I did before, but what you want me to do now.”
“I…I don’t know,” she admitted. “In the beginning I imagined I’d find you and things would go back to the way they were but now I can’t remember what that was. I guess, I thought you might join us, but I see now that that won’t work. Even if Fethillen was willing to bend the rules, I don’t think you want to. And, after Sushel’s reaction, I’m not even sure I want to be here anymore. They’ve been my family for so long. That they could turn on me so quickly, with so little provocation. I don’t understand it.”
“It sounds like you have some thinking to do,” Verchiel said.
“Yes. I do.” She gave a heavy sigh. “I suppose it’s too much to hope that you might be a little pleased to find out about me?”
He leaned back on his hands, and grinned, though with his cracked bleeding lips it looked macabre. “I never said I wasn’t.”
“No, but you didn’t say you were. Never mind. I should let you get some rest. I’m sorry I didn’t bring you any blood, but I couldn’t get very much. Game is plentiful and we hunt daily, so we don’t keep a store of it.”
“It’s all right. Loren needed it more than I do.” He glanced in the direction of Micah and Loren, who were both lying down and pretending not to listen. “You like him, huh?”
Ume looked surprised. “He’s nice and very sweet.”
“I think he likes you too.”
Katelina couldn’t be sure in the gloom, but she thought that Ume blushed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Maybe you should.” Verchiel yawned loudly. “If you don’t mind we can finish this conversation another time.”
“Of course.” Ume stood but hesitated. Once Verchiel was stretched out she leaned over him and whispered, “What about you and Jorick’s human? Are you teasing them, or do you really like her?”
His answer was a soft snore.
Katelina told herself she’d misheard Ume’s final question, and with that denial managed to slip into dreams of burning light and running blood. Eventually the screams faded into darkness.
The wind was chilly and Katelina saw that she was standing in front of a lake. Snow was sprinkled on the ground around her feet a
nd ripples danced across the surface of the water. The world was cloaked in night, but she had a sense of nature; trees and plants rustled and whispered. She could see the outline of a building hiding in the dark. A siren wailed low and far away.
She turned to see someone standing near her in the snow. He gazed into the distance, staring at something she couldn’t see. His long black hair stirred in the breeze and she held herself back from touching it; from running her fingers through the silky strands.
“Does it please you?”
She wasn’t sure what the question referred to: his hair, their location, the warm soothing tranquility that spread through her, so she chose the second and said, “I’m tired of the cold.”
“The world is cold. Cold faces, cold words, and cold hearts. All war, fight, betray, and steal to take everything that they can—gold, land, lives—with the hope that these will keep them warm. But one cannot steal warmth from another. One must make their own warmth.”
The words felt like wisdom, but in the dream she couldn’t grasp their full meaning. “I don’t understand.”
“Of course you do, you need only acknowledge it. But be not troubled. You will come to see the truth when you are ready.”
When Katelina woke the next evening she felt she’d dreamt something important. She blinked against the gloomy darkness, to find snatches, like wisps of cloud. There was a feeling of peace, a distant siren, a lake, but she couldn’t remember the rest. The cold of the floor seeped through her layers, and he Christmas lights flickered. Many of the bulbs were burnt out and left the strand looking like a gap toothed grimace. In the false twilight she could see the other vampires standing, stretching, and leaving. She rolled over to find that Jorick was still asleep. She brushed his hair back from his face, and gently traced his cool lips. The blisters were gone, and he was perfect again.
Though extra sleep probably wouldn’t hurt him, she didn’t like the idea of him being helpless while the Black Vigil was awake. “Jorick,” she whispered and shook him gently. “Jorick.”
He stirred, and came to with a deep, gasping breath, like someone who just remembered they needed air; not that he did. He sat up quickly, his head darting from side to side. “What is it?”
Children of Shadows Page 15
