by Casey Wyatt
He slowed down and slung me over his shoulder. He climbed up the gantry with lightning speed. At the very top, he set me down. My knees like water, ready to collapse.
“Cherry. You’ll do fine.” Smile lines crinkled around his brown eyes. “Take care of them.”
“You can’t do this to me!” I wailed. Strong hands gripped me from behind. Arms wrapped around me in an iron embrace.
“Come on, luv. Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain,” Ian said.
Jonathan cupped my face, his hands ice cold, then kissed my trembling lips. “Remember, I wanted you because I loved you.”
Then he was gone. With a burst of strength I broke Ian’s hold.
I ran to platform’s edge and gripped the thin metal rail, seeking out my sire. Jonathan raced through the smoky haze, smashing through Thalia’s soldiers with bone crushing force. In a blur, her men fell, necks broken, limbs torn off. I’d never seen anything like it. For the first time, I comprehended Jonathan’s age and the power it conveyed.
Through the rising vapors of the ships’ engines, Thalia waltzed into the launch bay like she owned the place. A long sword scraped the metallic surface as she walked, sparks danced around the blade’s tip, confident she would win.
The bitch.
Hate ripped through me like a beast. I lunged forward to join Jonathan in battle.
Ian snatched me back and forced me toward the ship’s hatch. I knocked him away long enough to witness a nightmare.
With a last glance at the ship, Jonathan knelt in front of the new queen.
Thalia’s arm raised. The blade arced.
“No!” I screamed.
Black spots danced before my eyes. My brain refused to see Jonathan’s head separate from his body. Too late, Ian’s body blocked my view as he carried me into the ship.
Angry howls echoed in my head. Desperate cries of an animal— me.
The noises continued after the rocket’s door closed and the entire time Ian forced me into a pressure suit. Sharp cries of pain escaped my mouth as Ian strapped me into a seat and held my hand.
The ship’s engine ignited. The tremendous force of lift-off compressed me into my seat. Only later, after we escaped Earth’s gravity and we hit zero-G, did I become quiet. Exhaustion won out and I slept.
Hours later, or maybe days later, I realized we weren’t floating around. In fact, I was reclined on a bed in a cozy room. And by cozy, I mean a small, narrow metal space, absent any windows. The walls were decorated with posters of Mars and scenes from Earth’s national parks. Probably a good thing—not seeing the dark void outside, racing past.
Were stars visible in space?
Jay was seated next to the bed in a metal chair bolted to the floor.
I raised my body up on my arms. My stiff neck swiveled, taking in the rest of the little room. “When did we board the Starship Enterprise?” Cotton filled my mouth and my throat was parched.
Jay leaned forward and passed me a shiny pouch with a small straw. “Drink it. I’ll explain later. After I’m sure you can keep liquids down this time.” The implication—I had vomited at some point on my street clothes —was confirmed by the red jumpsuit I sported. Jay wore one too, a USI logo emblazoned on the left side. The vampire version of NASA.
Whatever the fruity concoction was, it went down smoothly. Kind of like a warm daiquiri. After two more drinks, I started to feel better. The room didn’t tilt sideways when I stood up and my feet remained firmly on the ground.
The elation didn’t last long. A weary ache gripped my heart. Jonathan’s absence cut me like a knife. I clutched at my chest. Faint echoes, the family’s collective thoughts permeated my mind. The bond would take some getting used to.
“I can’t believe he did that,” I finally said. “Why did he sacrifice himself? He gave up without a fight.”
“He was a good man. I have said many prayers for him.” Jay rubbed my arm with his warm hand as if chasing away a chill. “Together we will pray for him. The traditional way.”
A wiped away a tear. “Yes. Okay.” Jay’s smile warmed my cold heart. He was the last thread to my old life. To before. “Why don’t you need a suit to breathe?”
Jay shook his head. “Even the space shuttle has on-board oxygen supplies. A better question would be why does this ship have gravity?”
“And?” I prompted for the reason.
Jay frowned, “I have no idea. I’ve been prowling this ship for days trying to figure it out. Prior won’t tell me a thing.”
“Wait. Prior is on the ship?”
“As soon as Thalia’s men arrived, he hopped on board. I guess he liked his chances with us better. He knew what would happen to him.” Same fate as Jonathan went unsaid. “I don’t think he planned to come along. He’s a bit freaked out.”
“Serves him right. We’ll see if his little social experiment works or not,” I grumbled.
Jay’s nod of approval at my observation irritated me.
“What? I read you know. I may be a stripper, but I’m not an idiot.”
“I’ve never thought of you as anything but intelligent and capable,” Jay said. “And you are no longer a stripper. You’re a sire.
Oh, fudge.
~ * * * ~
Jay’s reminder of my new position in life was the proverbial ice water to the head. Managing the club’s roster and balancing the books is woefully inadequate training for leading a family of vampires. And it’s not like Jonathan left me a Sire’s Guide for Dummies, either. The only bonus at the moment, the entire family was in stasis.
And Ian’s rogues. I doubted they would listen to me. Either as a sire or a leader. I shelved them as a problem for another day. Fiddledly-dee.
From what I gathered, while wandering around the ship, which seemed way larger than the rocket on the pad, three vampires were awake: Ian, Prior and myself. Jay and the human flight crew were the only mortals.
And I had already made a new enemy. Bonus points for me.
See, it started with the juice pouches. I explored the ship since there was nothing else to do. Would it have killed them to pack a deck of cards?
Endless wandering around dried out my throat. I had grabbed a juice pouch from the Mess Hall, one of the places I could now find without getting lost, and I discovered a new door.
I had no idea it was the Captain’s Lounge. Why he needed another room besides quarters was beyond me. I poked around for a bit. He had some interesting ship models on the desk. And a vaguely familiar stack of reports from Prior. My stack had grown mysteriously every day. I fantasized about what I would do if I caught Prior in my room. I would break his—
And that’s when Captain Trent caught me. “This is a restricted area, Miss.”
The man’s body language screamed former soldier. The same ramrod straight spine, stiff neck and polite demeanor. I’d seen a million of his type in my lifetime. Soldiers never changed. They were all the same. Looking down on us civilians, and a female to boot, like we were something stuck beneath their shoe.
“Please return to your officially sanctioned quarters.”
The steady beat of his heart told me he wasn’t afraid of me. Normally, I don’t like to scare people, but this guy’s attitude irked me.
With exaggerated movements, I peered around the Captain, juice pouch in hand. “Hmm. I don’t see anything.”
“Ma’am, please leave.”
“Sorry,” I smiled, with a hint of fang. Still no reaction. Not strange. He could be one of those types who discounted anything he saw and didn’t believe in. I showed full fang. “I don’t see anything.”
“See what Ma’am?”
“The pole up your ass.” A different possibility arose. He knew what I was.
Small frown lines creased his forehead, “I’ll escort you out.” He reached for my arm and missed. He grabbed the juice pouch instead with enough force, that if it had been my arm, it would have hurt. The pouch exploded, raining juice over his jumpsuit and the reports on his desk.
“Oops.” I skirted out of his way. “I can help you clean up.”
The dark glare was answer enough. He didn’t like me. Or maybe it was my kind. But whatever the case, he had way more strength than was natural. He had either drank vampire blood recently or he was a thrall.
I would have to keep a close eye on him. At the rate I was racking up bad feelings, I’d need a lot more eyeballs to watch my back.
~ * * * ~
Space . . .the most boring frontier. What was I thinking when I agreed to this? Oh, yeah. Right. On Earth, there’s a horde of angry vampires out to kill me. Silly me. And I wasn’t given a choice.
How could I forget those little details? I rolled over onto my side. The narrow cot that passed as a bed didn’t leave me much room to turn.
I cursed Jonathan for the hundredth time. I must have been in the anger phase of the grieving process because I cursed him every chance I got. He had not upheld his end of the bargain – dumping the family bond on me and sticking with me a colony on Mars was not protection. It was sheer lunacy.
Jonathan . . . a sob stopped short in my throat. Like bitter bile I bit it back, vowing no more tears. I’d cried for three solid days after I’d woken up. Jay confirmed I’d blubbered, half hysterical while I slept. More disturbing, he and Ian took turns watching over me while I recovered from the trauma of Jonathan’s loss.
Unbidden, images of our years together washed over me. Many of the events I perceived as negative seemed different now. The night of my creation, when he had given me enough liquor to make me more pliable, I wanted him to –
I slammed my palms against the metal sides of the bed. Memory cut off complete, I hopped off the bed and left my quarters for another aimless walk around the ship.
Free time stunk. I didn’t want to be in touch with my thoughts and feelings. Most of them were of the useless variety, such as I hate the color gray. It’s such a wishy-washy color. So middle of the road, like it’s too lazy to be either black or white.
Of all the colors in the universe, the ship had to be decked out in many shades of gray. Light gray walls in the Mess, dark gray for the hallways, giving them a gloomy Gus look. And silver gray in the ship’s quarters. Okay, I kind of liked the silver because it at least seemed cheery.
My other major gripe about the ship was its coffin-like interior. No windows, no bright lights and a maze of endless corridors.
The size and scale of the place was unidentifiable. For the first few days, Jay had shaken his head in amazement, muttering about the known Laws of Physics and other scientific gobbity-goop.
If I were being honest, the fixation with the ship was my way of coping with Jonathan’s loss. Maybe my grief stricken eyes weren’t capable of seeing any color other than gray. There was a dull ache in my psyche. The place formerly occupied by my sire had hung out a big vacancy sign. I wondered if I was defective or if everyone in the family would feel it. I was guessing not, since my bond filled the space previously occupied by Jonathan.
Unlike humans, vampires know they have all the time in the world to mend fences, so most of us push off unpleasantness to deal with later. I believed someday, Jonathan and I would work out our issues. The elephant in the room between us—how I became a vampire and how he tricked me into it.
Reconciliation would never happen now. I had to two choices, deal with it or push it off.
I did the vampire version of Scarlett O’Hara – tomorrow is another day and ignored the elephant.
At the moment I had bigger issues. The most pressing – I couldn’t sleep soundly anymore. Dreams invaded my brain – other vampire’s dreams and nightmares. And fantasies. Ugh. I didn’t want to know which of my family had a fetish for hairy toes and bright red nail polish. I was about to give myself a lobotomy with a cafeteria spork, when Ian surprised me with a gift as I zoned out, bleary-eyed in the mess hall.
“You can control the bond,” he slid over a fruity drink pouch. My new favorite beverage.
I stabbed the straw through the silver foil. “Great. Mind sharing the secret with me?”
Ian laughed. The sound resonated down through my toes. The harsh mess hall lighting turned his blond hair nearly white, giving him an angelic aura. “I love your cheek. ‘Course, I’ll share. Lose the drink and don’t squirm.”
He reached across the table and grasped my forehead with his large, smooth palms. Every cell in my body sang at his touch. As if sensing my thoughts, Ian’s lids lowered. Within a second he was back to his usual cocky self, a half grin plastered on his lips. “See, the trick is to relax your mind. Don’t fight the emotions.”
“How do you know this?” Had I imagined his reaction? I must have been desperate for affection.
A dark cloud passed over his face. The blue in his eyes grew deeper. “Never you mind. Now, try it.”
As commanded, I closed my eyes and let the images, thoughts and emotions through. They flooded over me — too much, too fast. TMI. Again, with the hairy toes, this time with pink polish. Ick.
My brain choked on information overload. “Now what?” I yelled, opening my eyes, startling the human crew in the room.
Ian rubbed his thumbs across my lips. “No need to shout, luv. Close your eyes and visualize a surf board—”
“I don’t know how to surf!” Nausea roiled my stomach. “Hurry up before I puke.”
“Fine. Imagine a curtain, like the kind on stage. Pull the cord and shut them out. Simple.”
Cramps twisted my gut. I fought the flood and imagined the red velvet curtain at Fang Bang. In an instant, I was on the stage. The family, eyes closed in sleep, occupied the audience seats. Dream bubbles floated over their heads. Live action sequences played in each window.
“Close the curtain, Cherry.” Ian stood next to me on the stage. “Wonder how I got here later.”
I moved out of the spotlight and into the stage left wing. A beam of light shone onto an elaborate gold cord. Two thick fringed tassels dangled from the end. On the real stage, it took two stage hands to lower and raise the heavy curtain with a thick, grimy rope.
“Close the curtain, luv,” Ian gently urged.
I marched over and tugged the golden rope, silken and soft under my hands. The curtain quivered and remained open. I pulled again. Nothing. Stubborn curtain.
The toe fetish surfaced in my mind. Oh hell no!
I yanked harder, using my body weight as leverage. Red velvet rippled elegantly as the curtain cascaded to the floor. The raging torrent of emotion diminished and I could think again. The family’s thoughts were a dull hum in the background, much like the real stage, where I could hear the audience before I saw them.
The vision faded to black. “Thank you,” I breathed out and opened my eyes. The cafeteria was empty. An unopened juice pouch lay on the table in front of me, a parting gift from Ian.
Sooner or later, I’d learn how he knew this stuff. Rogue my ass.
CHAPTER SEVEN
My next meeting with Ian came sooner than I expected and not on my terms. After another tear filled night, I barricaded myself into the shower stall. Sadness and anger had become my two best friends, each taking a turn wreaking havoc on my emotions.
Jonathan’s loss stabbed me in the heart, leaving me raw and miserable in ways I never thought possible. I thought I had wanted to be free of him and I was wrong. I missed him. Our past baggage was no longer important.
A demented horror film looped in my mind, playing the same movie, Jonathan losing his head. It replayed over and over again. Each time the severed skull rolled across the floor and stopped, eyes facing me. Jonathan’s brown gaze pierced a hole in my gut.
The head spoke to me, repeating the same criticism. “Charity, I’m disappointed in you.” The shrill voice was my mother’s. I was always a constant source of frustration. Nothing I did was good enough.
“Charity, you are a disgrace to the family,” was her favorite rant. I slammed the water off, slid down the wall and tucked my knees to my chest.
Acros
s the span of time, I could hear her voice, clear as day. “Charity, what man will want such a willful girl as you? Straighten your shoulders. Don’t slouch.”
“Shut up!” I shouted, banging the back of my head against the wall. “Leave me alone!”
My mother’s voice thickened, the English accent disappeared. Jonathan took her place and scolded, “This is your fault.”
I lost it. Great sobs racked my body. I could ignore my mother’s words because they weren’t true. But Jonathan – he was right. He’d still be alive if it weren’t for me. The family wouldn’t be jetting off to a lifeless rock with a price on their heads.
The crying subsided. Tiredness washed over me. I forced my limbs to move until I had a towel wrapped around my torso. Water droplets coated my shoulders and hair. I couldn’t care less about drying off.
“Cherry?”
I startled. The last person I wanted to see stood behind me. “Leave me the fuck alone!”
“Sorry, luv. I can’t do that,” Ian said. “This can’t continue. We need you.”
“Why?” My voice quavered. I refused to turn around. I looked like hell: dark circles, puffy eyes and matted hair. “Jonathan should have picked a better second.”
Ian gently twirled me to face him. “He made the right choice.”
I stared down at my toes. “I can’t do this.”
“You can,” he insisted.
“But . . . it hurts.” My lips trembled and my eyes stung as I fought another onslaught of tears.
“I know,” Ian said thickly. “I lost my sire too.”
I snuck a look at Ian’s face. Weariness lined his eyes and mouth. He seemed lost in thought for a moment. “I survived,” he finally said. “And so can you.” Ian picked up another towel and rubbed my dripping hair. When he finished, he patted the water off my shoulders. He picked up my brush and worked on unsnarling my hair.
Tension drained with each brush stroke. I don’t know how he did it to me, but I took the moment of comfort and savored it. “How did you lose your sire?”
“In a war. A long time ago.” Ian handed me a red jumpsuit. “I’ll be waiting out in the hall.
