by Mark Henwick
I’d told Tullah that Mykayla was in good hands and I believed it, but I would have been happier if they hadn’t been messing with my head. I found I couldn’t recall a single face from the group of Athanate at the golf course, other than Diana and Bian. I couldn’t recall the face of the man who’d accompanied them when they’d kidnapped me either. Apparently, Athanate security concerns ran deep and their powers were even spookier than I had imagined. What else might they have done while they blurred my memories?
I could recall the faces of the four who I’d fought in LoDo, quite clearly. Why was that different?
I spun and fought shadows until the air caressed my skin like hot silk and yet my heartbeat never reached above 120. I was quicker, faster, more Athanate with every passing day. One half of me despaired while the other gloried in the physical benefits.
I finished up the exercises and headed for a shower, a shadow passing through the silent house.
There had been a text on my cell confirming a meeting with the colonel and Captain Morales at police HQ at 9:30 Wednesday morning.
Krantz I just had to put out of my mind. Clearly, the colonel had got his leash and he was just barking as he was dragged off. He couldn’t do me any more harm.
Diana had my car with my slightly unusual GPS system—was it going to be a problem if she found that I knew where House Altau was?
What was the real price of the car she had given me? It seemed an excessive payment for an afternoon’s work. Had I done the right thing getting Altau involved?
Jen had suggested that I temporarily relocate my office to an unused study here in her house. She constantly referred to the guest suite as mine.
There’s nothing without a cost. I was collecting a pile of debts the size of which I couldn’t reliably estimate. The banks tried that with sub-prime mortgages and see where it got them.
TUESDAY
Chapter 35
I arranged for a couple of Victor’s team to stop by my office very early on their way in to relieve the guards at Manassah. I met them there and loaded them up with the office equipment and mail to take in for Tullah.
Morales called me as they drove off.
“Good morning, Farrell. Up early after a busy night, or haven’t you gone to bed yet?”
This was totally out of order; that sort of sarcasm was my line.
“Why, Captain, a girl would think that something happened while she was sleeping sweetly in Ms. Kingslund’s guest suite, protected by Mr. Gayle’s vigilant guards.”
He growled something in Spanish that I couldn’t catch, as I slipped back into my new car. Being a new car, it had made clever connections to my cell, and I was able to talk while driving without having a stupid plug in my ear.
“What’s up, Morales?” I prompted him.
“ZK membership is dropping. Another five last night in a car accident that wasn’t. A fight yesterday, near the Yale turnoff from I-25, where a lot of ZK motorcycles got trashed and a couple of people got shot, as far as we can tell.”
“They are busy boys,” I said. “Look, I may have something for you at our meeting tomorrow. Some insight on what’s going on, and some cell tracking and texts from ZK cell phones.”
“Do you remember anything about correct police procedure from your brief time with us, Farrell?”
I grinned. “Barely. I know you can’t use this kind of stuff in court, and I’m real sorry about that. But it’ll give you leads. My feeling is that ZK rank and file are amateur. Anyone you bring in will have a rap sheet, and my bet is there’ll be links to convictions and unsolved crimes. The people behind it are a different story entirely, and that’s more worrying.”
He grunted. “I’ll see you and the colonel downtown tomorrow morning then. Take care.”
“Thanks, Captain, and you.” I was almost starting to believe he did care.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
The flowerbeds made Lakeside look like a much prettier place in the daytime. I picked a spot beneath a pale bark birch tree to give me good shade for the car.
I walked into the clubhouse and the front desk guided me to the conference room, a long, bright space with a gleaming mahogany table and cushy executive chairs.
“Mykayla!” I said. I hadn’t gotten close enough to examine her yesterday, but it was the last thing I was expecting, to see her here.
She stood up and smiled. She was pale and moving carefully, but there was no scarring or bruising. She walked around and awkwardly offered her hand.
“I have a lot to thank you for, Amber. You and Tullah.”
I ignored the hand and gave her a gentle hug. “It’s nothing. I’m so happy to see you recovered.”
“Neat, huh? That’s what Bian did for me.” She twisted and looked adoringly at Bian over her shoulder.
Oh boy! I hoped Bian treated her gently.
Diana came from the head of the table to greet me. She wore black pants and shirt, and a pale gray jacket. Her hair was up and gold bracelets and rings completed an understated elegance.
We hugged. She kissed me, not on the cheek, but on the neck. “Athanate style,” she said with a smile. A little shiver passed through me.
Bian followed and gave me an extra squeeze. “Thank you again, Round-eye,” she whispered. She was soberly dressed today, in a dark blue business suit. I was glad that Mykayla, at least, was in jeans like me.
We sat down at the table. “There’ll be coffee in a few minutes,” said Diana and gestured to me. “I think you want to start, Amber.”
“I’d like to know first what happened leading up to yesterday, if you can talk about it, Mykayla.”
She nodded, sitting very still and looking down at the table.
“There’s not a lot to say. I’ve seen you and Bian at raves.” She looked sideways at Bian and smiled. “I never got a chance to meet you before. You always seemed to be passing through or looking for someone. Then last Friday, you were both there and I guess I just jumped on Bian. I was high as a kite. I don’t remember much of it.” She laughed.
“Then Bian had to go. I got back home, and, oh, I don’t know, Bian said she would come find me when she was ready, but I couldn’t wait. How could I get in contact? Well, I knew you were vamp—I mean Athanate.”
“But how, Mykayla?” I asked. I didn’t bother to correct her impression of me. She was half right.
“I don’t know. The way you move, like nothing’s wasted. So cool. And up close,” she looked down, frowning. “I danced with you once, or well, next to you anyway. There’s a feeling. And there’s this smell of copper and stuff. I know that sounds a little weird, but you both have it.” She turned and looked at Diana. “You all have it.”
It gave me a little shock to hear she could sense Athanate the way I could. Damn. Was that what tipped Nokes to me at the Crate & Freight stakeout? He could smell me?
“Okay, so you wanted to get back to Bian. What did you do?”
“Well, there was talk going around. The biker guys who run those raves. I heard they were in with vamps. I started asking around.”
She took a sip of water, visibly steeling herself. “The next thing I know, they’re around at my place. They wanted to know what I knew. They wouldn’t believe me when I said nothing. I wouldn’t give them your names. They started to hit me. And they said they would get a whole group…” Her head dropped and she trailed off.
“Okay, Mykayla,” I said. Bian squeezed her hand. “I think that’s enough. You were incredibly brave.” That sounded condescending, but I really believed it.
I gave her a minute to recover.
“What’d be good,” I said, turning to Diana, “is a description of what becoming Athanate would mean for Mykayla. I get that you might normally hold some of this back, but I think she’s a special case. I want her to hear all the pros and cons before she makes her mind up.” I felt I was pushing it a bit, but Mykayla needed this and I wanted to know for myself.
“Very well,” Diana said. “As much as we can.” She
got up and started pacing, trailing her lustrous red fingernails over the glossy tabletop. Bian stood and leaned against the window, arms folded and ankles crossed.
“Vamps, you said, Mykayla.” Diana bowed her head and was silent for a couple of paces. “And you, Amber, behind your concern, you fear what you may become, what you may lose.”
She looked up and took a deep breath. “The soul, as I understand it, is that spiritual part of the person that is immortal. I know of no reason that prolonging the life of the physical body should dilute the soul. As for the function of the soul, that isn’t directly affected by the transformation to Athanate.” She shrugged. “I can’t measure the soul, but I am sure I am spiritually the same person I was before I became Athanate. I need and want different things, but none that would outrage my former self.”
“And vampires,” she turned to Mykayla. “Vampires are the flickering illusions of Hollywood and the shadows of myth. They don’t exist. We do. We are the Athanate, the undying. Humanity's secret, eternal companions on this earth.”
“What are these illusions? The ones you fear?” She paused. “Monsters who've discarded their souls; evil incarnate. Killers without conscience or remorse.” Diana leaned on the table and stared at Mykayla, who impressed me by holding her gaze steady. “I will not lie. There are Athanate who are monsters.”
Just standing there, Diana was scaring me, and I’ve been around many scary people.
“But where do these monsters come from?” Diana turned on her heel and picked up a newspaper from a side table, laying it down in front of me and opening it at the latest horrific murder story. “From people. People like you. I’ll ask you this: is it easier to create a new monster in a human body, or free one that’s already there?”
She walked slowly down the table, her fingernails hissing quietly over the gleaming surface.
“The truth is,” she said to me over her shoulder, “the monster’s inside you. It has always been. The Athanate powers do no more than tempt it from its lair inside your head. What happens next is up to you. Just as it has always been.”
“We’re human, really,” said Bian, coming back from the window to stand behind Mykayla. “No better or worse, but different, and that difference has always been a danger for Athanate, so we hide. We’re not a numerous people.”
How numerous? My interest was piqued, but I didn’t want to interrupt.
Bian slid a hand down to Mykayla’s shoulder. “We live longer and we don’t age. Our health’s better. We become stronger and faster. We have better physical control. We develop telergy—mental skills—and some skills you would call magical.” Her hand caressed Mykayla’s neck, and Mykayla turned to kiss the wrist. “To keep all this happening, we need pure human blood. Specifically human and not Athanate. Without it we die.”
Diana leaned on the table and opened her mouth, showing her fangs: beautiful, shining, ivory knives. Mykayla shivered. After a moment, Diana’s fangs withdrew and became normal canines again. “The fangs manifest to bite,” she said. “They siphon blood to special glands and organs in the throat that take nutrients from the blood and create pheromones and other biological agents.”
She stood up.
“You both need to be aware of what it looks like when an Athanate wants or needs blood.” Diana gestured to Bian, and Mykayla and I swung around. Bian walked a little away from us, suddenly sensuous and predatory in her movements.
“Her body is being flooded with the Athanate elethesine hormone. Blood flow changes, feeding major muscles, making the face pale, the fine movements more controlled.”
Bian turned around smoothly. She wasn’t one to fidget anyway, but there was an eerie stillness that meshed with the oiled precision of her motion. Her eyes had gone dark and glittering.
“Her pupils enlarge, her eyes cease to blink and her tear glands compensate,” Diana said.
“My airways expand, my heart rate and breathing increase,” whispered Bian, her voice as smooth and seductive as her movements had been. “My senses become very acute. My fangs manifest.” Her eyes fixed on Mykayla and her chest labored. “I thirst.”
Diana walked around and stood in front of Bian. After a long moment, Bian blinked and turned to the window.
“Younger Athanate would not have that control,” Diana said, returning. “Be extremely careful around Athanate that exhibit those symptoms.”
I watched Mykayla. It’s one thing to want to be a vampire because Hollywood says it’s cool, or because you’ve got a crush on one, and quite another to start thinking about how they actually do what they do.
“I understand,” she said. She looked pale, but firm.
Bian came and leaned on the back of Mykayla’s chair, looking not exactly normal, but at least more like she usually did. “We can’t have children,” she said, her voice still low and sweet. “Something in what makes us Athanate prevents it. But we can make new Athanate. That’s what we’d do for you. We think of it as fulfilling your potential. Our name for the process is crusis. But, it’s dangerous.”
“Someone picked at random and subjected to the crusis would almost certainly die,” Diana said, staring at me. “When that doesn’t happen, it’s interesting in itself.”
“In House Altau,” she went on, “we’re careful. We lose no more than one in a hundred in crusis. To achieve this, our first step is selection. We start with people who’re more likely to survive. Being able to sense Athanate is one of the positive indicators.”
“Like I can?” asked Mykayla.
Diana nodded. “Very few people can actually smell or sense Athanate like you, Mykayla. What you sense, we call the marque. Each House has its own.”
She paused, sipped some water. “For selection, we also look at mental and physical health. When we’ve gone through that, we call them Aspirant, and assign them Mentors.”
Bian took it up again. “Next, we eliminate. You have to live healthy, train hard and pass tests. No pass, no go. Your body has to be at its physical peak. You take no medicines. And no recreational drugs. Not even nicotine or alcohol is allowed.”
I could see the word ‘bummer’ as if it had come up in lights on Mykayla’s forehead. “Ever?” she asked faintly.
“Not during crusis. There’s not much need after.” Bian grinned and went on. “During this training, when you’re ready, you’re bitten by a Mentor. The agent that begins the crusis is in the bite. Our Mentors can limit it, so that it takes three bites for the full amount to be given. This gives your body time to adapt.”
Diana tilted her head to one side. “Listed out like that, it sounds a joyless, soulless process. If you choose this path, you’ll see it’s not. The crusis and our Blood are sacred to us. The ordeal binds us together, and the act of giving and taking Blood is the core of what it is to be Athanate.”
I stirred in my seat. Diana turned and looked at me.
“What about Aspirants who change their minds? Or who are eliminated, as you put it?” I said.
Diana resumed pacing. “They try again, or they stop, but remain within the mantle of the House, as kin. Almost all take one of those options. If they don’t, if they wish to return to being normal humans, they wake at their home from a fever with no clear memory of the preceding events. It’s the same with those who are asked and do not wish to proceed. They have no memory that they were asked. I won’t lie, erasing memories is not pleasant for them, nor is it completely successful.” She stopped. “Being bitten three times, however, changes the body. There’s no going back then.”
“And when humans stay with the House as kin, you mean they are the ones that provide the blood? Why do they do that?”
“I could simply say health and long life. It wouldn’t be a difficult sell, Amber, to give some blood once or twice a month in exchange for being young and healthy for a hundred years or more. But actually, it’s not like that. For a healthy group over time, one of us needs four or five normal humans for blood. It would be dangerous for us if these weren’t deep
and committed relationships. Part of becoming Athanate, and part of becoming kin, includes changes to the instincts that drive relationships.”
“Don’t forget the pleasure,” said Bian, leaning over the back of the chair and trailing fingers along Mykayla’s cheek. “That’s an important part of it.” I didn’t think Mykayla had forgotten that.
Diana smiled briefly. “Athanate Houses are like Darwinian organisms; we’ve evolved needs that help our survival. We need the commitment of kin and we have the means to nurture it, and, yes, that includes pleasure as well as commitment. Athanate have subconscious drives, the Athanate imperatives, to form these bonds. An Athanate without kin is a sick Athanate.”
“This bond—it’s due to the pheromones or agents you mentioned? Or this mental skill—telergy?” I asked.
“Telergic compulsion in any form to provide blood is banned in Altau, barring life or death situations. Pheromones or agents? Yes, they certainly start the process; the envirics that pleasure, the aniatropics that heal. They help maintain the process. But the commitment is not based on them. It’s like love; in fact it is love, just differently experienced. Experience is the only true understanding. It’s not something that can be explained. It has to be shared. The emotion is as vital to us as the Blood.” Diana stood in front and stared down at me. “We need these emotions to sustain us, but also to ground us, to give us our place in this world.”
She leaned again on the table, her eyes looking right through me. Her voice dropped and yet still seemed to fill the room. “The commitment goes both ways. This is the gift and the sorrow of the Athanate; to see your loves pass before you like the days of summer while your heart still beats. To keep your vigil in the shadows and rise again with every sun.”
The breath caught in my throat. I was sure she had just quoted something very old, something I had never heard before, possibly something that no one besides Athanate heard, something full of grief. I had a sense of time behind Diana, like a great, dark wheel turning. Bian walked around the table and put a hand on Diana’s shoulder. She shuddered and the room seemed lighter again.
