One (Rules Undying Book 6)

by R. E. Carr

  “Do not listen, mi amiga.” Georgia could feel the words echoing in her head more than really hear them. She closed her eyes.

  “Even if you figure out how to get out of this room, no one will help you. No one wants to see you, even if you try to interact with them. Come back to me, Georgia, and I will help you.”

  “He wants something.” Georgia opened her eyes and saw recognition in Javier’s. He smiled and gave the tiniest of nods.

  Merlin took a few more steps. A howl sounded from the hall—not a werewolf’s roar but rather a decidedly human scream. Merlin narrowed his eyes. “You will come back to me,” he said with remarkable confidence. “But right now, I need to shut my son up.”

  “Ren,” Georgia gasped as Merlin stormed out the door. “Oh my god, Ren was screaming.”

  “One step at a time, mi amiga.”

  Georgia swooned again. Her stomach growled audibly. Javier smiled at her. “We have a lot to do and a lot to learn, but first we must get you well.”

  “Why can I hear you in my head?”

  “A better question is, why can I hear you in my head, mi amiga?”

  “You are really annoying, Captain Fabulous.” She began the long, painful trek to the door, her feet freezing on the tile and her joints wobbling. Javier only let her go when they reached the door. Georgia reached over and grabbed the tablet. “Think they will miss it?” she asked, finally moving her lips again.

  “I’m already in their network, and Merlin has been ripping off Lung technology, so that is probably tracked. Now that I know to look for Lazarus-2, I will help you, never fear. No hay problema.”

  “He couldn’t see me. He really couldn’t.”

  “Welcome to my world, amiga.” They peered into the hall. Javier started for the elevator, but Georgia’s feet turned the opposite direction. She used the wall to support her shuffle towards the neighboring door. Javier stared at her, confused. “Um, this way.”

  Georgia growled at the keycard reader by the door. “Damn it.”

  “Open sesame.” Javier slipped his hand into the breast pocket of her shirt and whipped out a card. “I was going to peek, but I thought you’d want a snack first.”

  “I have to see. I don’t know what, but it’s like I’m connected—”

  “Now I’m getting jealous,” Javier said with a wink. For a moment, Georgia saw a flicker peering around the corner down the hall. It flittered out of sight as Javier opened the door. “Jesuchristo!”

  “Jesus Christ,” Georgia echoed as she saw the patient strapped into the bed, an army of tubes snaking through the bandages that covered him nearly from head to toe. Tufts of dark hair poked from the top of him, while a bubbler full of blood rested at the patient’s feet. A glassy green eye looked right at her. A soft whine emanated from around the tube in the poor creature’s throat.

  “Help me.”

  “How?” Georgia whispered in return.

  “He seems to be being kept alive by all these machines,” Javier answered. “So much blood—”

  “Help me.”

  Georgia looked around, confused. His hand twitched under the sheet. Slowly, cautiously she moved towards him. Javier went to check the tablet in the room. “Jesuchristo,” Javier said again, dropping the tablet and staring at the patient in horror. “Mi amigo.”

  Georgia remained transfixed on the man in the bed. She placed her hand on his, finding a tiny patch of bare skin between the thumb and forefinger. The universe shifted.

  Georgia found herself once more in the uncomfortable position of staring at a face so close to her own, yet so different. “You found me,” the other Georgia whispered. The world whirled around, and her field of view shifted again. This time she saw Lorcan’s face staring at her, his dark hair falling over his eyes.

  “No, you found me,” he said softly, kissing her.

  “Lancelot,” spewed out of Georgia as she snapped awake back in the hospital room once more. “Oh my god . . . this is Lancelot—and he’s alive.”

  32

  “OK, for once our luck held out, Pumpkin. I mean as far as nights go, this one isn’t so bad,” Steve sighed as they curled up together on the grass of the Granary Burial ground, sipping blood-spiked Sam Adams in front of the grave of the original Samuel Adams. “It’s a little stereotypical vampire but considering all the crazy lately—”

  “I’ll take it, Honey Bunny,” she finished as she scrolled through an article on her phone. Steve raised a brow.

  “Are you fumbling me?” he asked. Gail cocked her head, then looked back to her phone.

  “No, I’m phubbing you. Phubbing equals phone snubbing. Fumbling is what makes us scream when the Patriots play.” She tucked her phone into her latest handbag acquisition—a pocketbook with tiny Pokémon dancing in a field of flowers. Taking a sip of her lager, she remarked, “I must say, the college crowd is so delicious. Are you sure that it’s safe to drink a whole bottle of beer like this?”

  “If there is one thing I know, it’s the amount of beer a vampire can consume in relation to blood,” he reassured her. “You know that Lorcan knew all these dudes? He was a big fan of revolutions back in the day.”

  “Javier too,” Gail said, misty-eyed. “Anyway—I keep getting these notifications from the Arce Monstrorum archives.”

  “Wow, musty old documents are more exciting than me. Don’t you think it’s a little, you know . . . strange that you keep getting all these updates? I mean, wouldn’t Freckles have blocked you by now, considering that the werewolves have declared war?”

  “I don’t think these notifications . . . are from her.”

  “Oh boy, you aren’t going to start—”

  “Look, I know it’s crazy, but I have seen Javier. Either he is not dead, or he’s—for lack of a better word—a ghost. He keeps showing me manuscripts on vampire powers, on miasma and how it works on the brain. I’ve also been reading on neurology, and biomechanics, and the electricity that powers our brains . . . oh my god, you are already tuning me out, aren’t you?”

  “And maybe it’s some program that the werewolves left running, and they forgot or are just too busy to shut it off. I mean, we were on their team—”

  “You’re backpedaling, Steve.”

  He downed the rest of his beer. They sat in awkward silence until he finally began playing with the wedding band still on his finger. “Javier is a big, old faker and a spy. Sure, maybe you lucked out, and he’s not really dead—but I can’t believe in ghosts. My heart can’t take it. So why would he be messing with you?”

  “I think . . . he’s teaching me. After all, who have I got to teach me on how to be a vampire anymore?”

  Steve gave her a wounded look. Gail let out a heavy sigh. “Do you have any idea how your powers work, let alone mine?”

  His silence was deafening. After another awkward moment, he gnawed briefly at his lip then dared to ask, “So . . . is there anything in there on powers like mine?”

  “Just about the terrifying Beast and his ability to steal souls. Your dad never talked to you about any of this?”

  “That would require me actually talking to my dad. Our first meeting was awkward, to say the least, and considering how I felt like he abandoned me with Claudia and Minerva, we never really had father-son heart-to-hearts. The sheriff—err, Ma—her idea of teaching me was kiss people, make them forget, and stay out of my way. I’m sure if she had figured out what I could do, I’d be the thirstiest vampire slut ever—chugging all the blood I could get my fangs on to be the Übermensch.”

  “Yeah, I can totally see that. Look, vampire basics—you have venom glands and miasma glands. You know how those work, right?”

  “Yes, the first squirt gets the blood flowing and numbs the area. The follow-up spray does the mosquito thing. I’m not that much of an ignoramus, doll.”

  Gail rolled her eyes. “Miasma works the same way, Steve. One gland produces chemicals that awe and inspire, while the other makes the don’t notice me juice. Various combinations
affect people in different ways. You were originally strong in type-two miasma, so you faded into the background; but you never went all the way, like Javier did, until now.”

  “So, the same juices that make people forget—”

  “We now use it to make people not notice us at all. It’s gotten more . . . potent, if you will.”

  “And the whammy voice and all the shouting in our heads—”

  “That’s the other type—the sexy, commanding type. Most vampires are evenly balanced and thus aren’t particularly good at any powers at all, short of commanding the weak-willed and hiding in crowds. If you buy into all the propaganda in the Arce archives, that’s what separates the nobles from the common vamps. Of course, the rarest of all vampires are those with—”

  “Unique gifts that even affect other vamps.” Steve looked away pointedly. “AKA, the only reason I’m still alive.”

  “Somehow, you can learn other vampires’ abilities, Steve. Just hold still for a second. I want to look at something.” She reached over and began gently massaging his neck until it quivered. “Wow, those are impressive.” She blushed a little. “What I mean is, you drank my blood, and now your venom glands are bigger . . . I mean, um . . .” Gail trailed off, flustered.

  Steve finally looked her in the eyes. “Why do I suddenly make you so nervous?”

  “I don’t really know. It’s like, I’m starting to feel different when I’m around you, and I can’t really control myself. I know that you have the whammy voice and that your venom is persistent, but—”

  “What are you talking about?” he asked, confused.

  “You asked me why you make me nervous.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did! Oh god, you did say it aloud, didn’t you?” She looked away. “I’m going fucking crazy.”

  “Stop it, you’re not crazy! Not after everything that has happened. Wait, did you say that out loud? Oh lord, this is how it starts, with voices in my head. I’ve finally hit my wall.”

  “No, I just thought it . . . loudly,” Gail said, taking his hands even though he wasn’t wearing gloves. “Now, don’t freak out and accidentally whammy me, OK?”

  Steve nodded. He shifted uncomfortably as Gail slowly slid her fingertips up his wrists and then pressed her forearms against his. After only a moment, the whooshing in her chest matched the pulsing along Steve’s shivering arms. She looked him in the eyes. “It’s something Javier said—everything is just chemicals and electricity. It’s not Voodoo or magic.”

  “Feels a little magical.” Gail smiled at him. He blushed and stared in awe at the sparks dancing from Gail’s fingertips into his skin. His eyes widened further as he saw the same sparks on his own fingertips.

  “You have my blood in you, and we have both had Javier in us . . . sorry, bad phrasing, but you know what I mean. We’re connected . . . so now, we just have to figure out how to go from—”

  “Finishing each other’s sentences—”

  “To something more useful. I wanted to show you something,” Gail said, gulping a little. “Remember not to freak out.”

  “Can’t promise anything, Pumpkin.”

  Gail took a deep breath. She focused on her forearms, bit by bit, inch by inch. She felt Steve tense beside her as the skin on his forearms began to darken. Soon a silvery stream of veins emerged from under her skin, pulsing in time with the vampire within. Steve gasped and tightened his grip as the circuitry tattoo he had copied from Ren now appeared on both arms, throbbing in time with Gail.

  “When I was near the fire, I saw this—like a skin under my skin. I didn’t see it with you, but now that you’ve had more of my blood and more time, I think you’ve changed too.”

  “I think the guy on the Nashville local news was right—it’s aliens. It’s definitely aliens.”

  “No, it’s the vampire inside us, changing, growing . . . evolving. Everything I’ve read says that vampire abilities are forged by trial and trauma. What did Merlin say?”

  “Some . . . alchemy of the soul . . . or something? Wait—so you’re saying that it’s all these horrible things that are making us more powerful? Well, I don’t know about you, but I was a lot happier being a wuss.”

  “Maybe so, but there is a connection. If we work together . . . I dunno everything quite yet, but we have to get stronger, Steve. You gave Arthur his memories back, and that means he remembers you, and me, and Georgia, and all those terrible things you held back from him. If we get more powerful through suffering, what do you honestly think is going to happen to him?”

  Steve yanked his arms free and pushed to his feet. “I take it back. Our night did get worse.”

  “Steve!”

  “Look, Pumpkin. The sun is coming up soon, and I need a little time to think, alone. You go home, and I’ll see you on the flip side.”

  “You’re not going to do something stupid, are you?”

  “Of course, I am—but I need you to go back and help Lorcan or Jonathan or whatever flavor of the week we’ve got in there. You’re already a much better vampire than I am.”

  “Steve!”

  “Don’t make me use the voice, please.”

  She watched him walk through the slate headstones, his head hung low. He turned back once to give her one of his lopsided Steven J. DeMarco trademark smirks. Gail felt a pang in her chest. “Well, try not to be . . . too stupid,” she called softly after him.

  Gail lingered around the cemetery until she could just see traces of light curling over the buildings. No one gave her a second glance as she swung a giftwrapped sledgehammer onto her shoulder and sauntered down Tremont in the wee hours of the morning. She just made it into the alleyway by their basement apartment as the early morning commuters filled the streets. The tinted town car still sat in front of their building. “I hope I don’t walk in on anything,” she murmured to herself as she made sure to slide her key into the lock loudly and take her time opening the door.

  “Come in, my dear heart.” Mina lounged in a miraculously clean living room. The broken table now sat neatly packed in the corner and a mix of duct tape and bungee cords held the sofa arm back in place. Lady Harker sipped a frothy beverage that smelled like a cappuccino in a strip club. “Can I get you some breakfast?”

  “No thanks, Steve and I ate some hipsters by the Common. Where is—?”

  “It took a lot out of him. He took an early day. I didn’t want to leave him, though, in such a weakened state.” She patted the sofa next to her. “Please—come, sit.”

  “Steve—”

  “He’s gone off to do something unwise, right?”

  “Were you following us?”

  “No, but you returned looking concerned, and Steven is not here. He is also . . . well, he is also Steven, and it is his nature to get into trouble, no?”

  Gail rolled her eyes. Mina laughed at her. “I also thought that we should talk, petal.”

  “Are you going to suggest that I hook up with Steve again?”

  Mina giggled louder. “The plan was originally to bring the house of Jaeger and the house of Pendragon together. Steve and Geoffrey were always so adorable, but alas, my son has had issues and eyes for another. Why the face? Steven is a better match than people give him credit for—of course, that was as the son of Lady Jaeger. As the third son of Lady Lung, his situation has clearly changed. Now I see him as more of a match for my granddaughter, perhaps?”

  Gail paled. Mina smiled. “I just assumed that Javier left you a message. Was I wrong?”

  “Do you know what happened to Javier?”

  “Such a deft change of subject. You fit right into the family. Yes, I know what happened to Javier. He tried to meet with me and was found dead in my club. My father was shocked by the scene. Of course, he had long suspected Javier’s and my affair—considering that Geoffrey could control electricity and had a personality.”

  “And he wouldn’t do something to get rid of an embarrassing Azarola? Really?”

  “By that line
of thinking, why not accuse me, Gail? You’re only casting aspersions on your own bloodline. I saw you in the fire, child. I saw your true self in the light of the flame, and at that very moment, I knew exactly who you were.”

  “What did you see?”

  “All the vampires I meet make such a big deal about my father, the wizard; but my mother, she was a phoenix. It was a different time and a different place. As crazy as it seems, where I came from, magic was ever so real. You’ll find that we don’t burn quite as quickly as others of our kind. It’s quite the useful skill when they try to burn you at the stake for witchcraft, believe me.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. So, you know who I am, and you’re not upset?”

  “Upset? You’re my family!” She enveloped Gail in an enormous hug. “I must know, however, who knows your true identity? I mean, other than your mother and Steven.”

  “How did you—?”

  “I think you will find that if you stop and listen, you will learn that hearts can be read like books.” Mina leaned over and took Gail’s hand. “There is a certain connection between all living things and a stronger connection between hearts. I can feel that connection, perhaps you even feel it yourself. You have a bond with that Lung boy, whether you like it or not.”

  “I don’t like it,” Gail said, pulling away. “It’s not what you think. I don’t have feelings for Steve—other than frustration and an inexplicable need to protect him from time to time. It’s not some timeless romance. It’s complicated, and ugly—and probably caused by all the venom in my blood.”

  “Not every connection is a romantic one. Remember that.” Mina eased to her feet and gave a languid stretch. She took the time to finish her drink and even wash out her cup, while Gail remained curled on the couch. She peeked around the kitchen door. “Of course, I still hold out hope that it will change in time.”