Matters of the Blood

by Maria Lima

  "Greta, what are you going to do with Keira?"

  Boris’ voice contained an unspoken plea. He must still be having second thoughts about hurting me. Awfully human of him.

  "She can stay here and die from her wounds.” She shrugged. “I don't care. She stays with the monsters. She can die with the monsters. I'm sure the animals will come soon. Come on, Boris, we need to leave now."

  "Are you leaving Rio Seco?” I had to ask.

  The laugh floated back as Greta didn't even bother to turn around. “Leave? We have no reason to leave. You will all be dead. They will think you died in the fire."

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  A loud growl from above our heads was the only warning. A blurred shape passed over us and landed on Greta, knocking her into Boris and taking them down to the ground. I scooted back, intending to protect the vampires from whatever this was.

  A groan escaped Adam as he slumped down, rolling to his side. I could see the effort of remaining upright had taxed his waning strength. I struggled to loosen the tape around my wrists.

  Greta screamed words I couldn't understand as she struggled with the dark shape. Boris scrambled to his feet, pointing the rifle with trembling hands.

  "Tucker, watch out!” I'd recognized my brother's wolf form.

  With preternatural speed, the wolf leaped to one side, barely escaping the bullet.

  Boris dropped the rifle and screamed, a howl that echoed off the walls of the pit, heartbreak and agony in every note. He sank to the ground, hiding his face in his hands.

  "Greta.” The soft whisper barely made it to my ears.

  Greta Nagy lay on the rocky ground, a pool of blood spreading underneath what was left of her head.

  The wolf nudged the rifle with his snout, bringing it close to me and away from Boris, who was crouched next to his dead sister, rocking and keening. The old man's head was buried in his sister's side, his hands clutching at hers.

  "Boris...” I started to speak, wanting to feel sorrow, wanting to feel something, but I couldn't. I was numb.

  The old man took a deep breath, shuddering through the sobs that wracked him. He pushed away from Greta's body, hands coated with her blood. Glittering eyes accused as he stared at us, still on his knees, a supplicant. In a movement nearly too fast for me to see, he reached down and put Greta's pistol to his own head and fired.

  A fine spray of blood spattered my face as Boris Nagy slumped across the body of his sister.

  I buried my head in Tucker's furry side, suddenly beyond tired. This was not the kind of death I was used to seeing. People, broken beyond repair due to the violence in their lives, meeting an end just as violent. My brother nuzzled my thigh, a questioning look in his wolf eyes. I looked at him, grateful for his presence. It was over.

  "I'm fine, Tucker. Nothing a little time and distance won't heal. Shift back and help me get these guys into the van. It's getting pretty close to dawn."

  "Keira, the ranch...” Niko's quiet plea reminded me. It wasn't quite over.

  I'd forgotten about the Nagy's little love gifts to the vampires at the ranch.

  "Adam, Niko, does what Greta said make sense? Are they all dead then?"

  "Holy water?” Adam groaned, as if even speaking was too difficult. “Myth. Rumor and legend."

  "But the fire, Adam? The hemlock?"

  His voice was ragged, tired. “Hemlock maybe ... sedate them. Won't kill them. Slows down motor centers. Humans ... stop breathing. Don't need to ... breathe. But fire ... destroy..."

  The words trailed off, as he drifted out of consciousness. Damn it.

  I explained the situation to my brother, who cocked his wolf's head and whined a little, nudging my still-bound hands.

  "I can handle this, Tucker. I'm not sure when the bombs are set to go off. You can get there faster cross-country. I'll take care of things here."

  The wolf nodded once, licked my face, and took off across the quarry. It wasn't the best we could do, but it would have to be our answer for now.

  "Hurry, bro,” I whispered. I hoped he'd make it in time. I'd already seen too many deaths.

  Now I had to get myself free.

  I worked my hands against the tape, pushing with all the force of the muscles that were stronger than human. My back strained, shoulders heaving with effort. Drops of sweat rolled down my face as I worked, pulling my hands apart, feeling the tape starting to give, to tear just a little. With a final effort and a yank, the bonds tore with that distinctive fleshy ripping sound. I pulled the rest of the tape from my wrists and just as quickly removed it from my ankles.

  I crawled over to Adam, touching his head, his face.

  "Adam?"

  His muscles were limp, slack, as if no life remained in his body. But I knew better. Below the imitation of death was a spark that lay dormant. Just touching his skin let me know that whatever made him Adam Walker was still there. Call it what you will, soul, magick, necromancy—it wasn't gone. But I also felt the change in the air, the lightening of the breeze that announced that dawn was just about to tap me on the shoulder.

  I pulled the duct tape from both Adam and Niko, but couldn't break the wire that still bound them. It was heavier than the jewelry-making wire I'd first taken it for. It seemed to be some sort of cable coated in silver.

  "Niko, damn it, can you help?"

  He shook his head.

  "I'm afraid that silver does make us weaker, Keira. That's how Boris was able to keep us unconscious in the van. The cattle prod weakened us, but the van's lined in sheets of silver foil. I fed yesterday, so I'm not as powerless, but Adam hasn't."

  Damn it all to ever-loving hell and back. I'd been hoping to drag them inside the van, to escape the sun's rays. I looked around, trying to see if there was any sort of shelter at all. Nothing. We were on the west side of the pit, maybe if I were able to get them to the other side, away from the first rays of the sun ... I said as much to Niko.

  "I'll do what I can, but I'm still pretty weak,” he said. “Keira, Adam hasn't fed in a while. He may die if the sun rises."

  "That would bother you?"

  I couldn't help myself. I was angry and tired and not choosing to be nice.

  "Whatever our differences, I don't want Adam dead,” he said. “He's my friend, my sire, he's—we can work out the problems."

  "He said he'd saved you."

  I tugged at the cable—a futile gesture but I had to try. There was nothing else I could do right now, nowhere to drag them to safety.

  Niko looked down at the ground.

  "He saved me from a life you can't begin to imagine. I was a whore. I was beaten nearly dead by my master, left on the streets to die. Adam found me and fed me, let me grow up to be a healthy man. When the plague came, he turned me. I'd contracted it, was dying."

  "What Boris and Greta said?"

  "They were right, but I swear to you on all that's holy. I believed the Germans—that the children, the people would be safe. It was the only way I could see to save them, save my own people from extinction. The Nazis had attacked a nearby village and burned everyone, including the small tribe of vampires living below the church. After they looted the treasures, the Germans burned the building."

  "They lived under a church? But I thought—"

  "We are as religious as we ever were—or not,” he answered. “Holy symbols, belief in God, that never changes, at least not because we're vampire."

  "Handy."

  I turned my attention back to Adam. What I felt about Niko would have to wait. There were more important things to worry about right now. If the vampires survived this, then we could discuss the morals and ethics of his actions of more than half a century ago. I had to admit, the reason I'd asked was selfish. If Boris had been right, I might have just been tempted to leave Niko to die.

  Adam groaned slightly, his eyelids fluttering. I'd helped him to lie on his back, slightly leaning to one side off his bound hands.

  "
Adam, can you hear me?"

  He nodded, slowly, as if even this slight movement hurt him.

  "Can you feed?"

  "Feed?"

  The words were no more than a gruff croak.

  "Adam, it's nearly dawn. There's no real shelter. Derek and Dusty are here, at least their bodies. Maybe I can slide you closer—"

  "No.” I felt instead of heard the internal turmoil that came with that word.

  "Dead too long. Can't feed."

  Okay, let's try door number two. Not a choice I'd wanted to give, but it was available.

  "Boris—"

  "No! I will not feed from the dead."

  That only left one option.

  "Then you're going to feed from me."

  I scooted over closer, trying to figure out how just to place myself. I didn't know if I should try to offer my neck or my wrist, or what. It wasn't as if I'd ever done this before.

  "No.” Adam closed his eyes and turned his head away. “Won't."

  "He won't feed from you, Keira,” Niko explained.

  "I get the point, Niko,” I said in exasperation. “Damn it, he needs blood. I can't keep the sunlight away; can't stop it from rising. But I can offer this."

  I touched Adam's forehead, the connection between us opening up even more. I stretched my senses, trying to reach in and touch his awareness. With that extra clarity that comes with psychic perception, I realized that my own wounds were nearly healed, surprisingly quickly, even for one of my kind. But almost as quickly, Adam was vanishing, slipping from my mental touch.

  I pressed my wrist to his mouth. “Feed, damn you,” I insisted. “Adam, come on."

  "Can't you just magick us out of here?” asked Adam, rousing enough to try to make a joke.

  "It doesn't work that way."

  "Why not?"

  "You think I can just wiggle my nose like Bewitched and poof we're gone? Why the hell don't you just turn into a bat or mist and escape?"

  "I get the point."

  "The only chance we have is to have someone notice we're missing. Maybe Andrea.” I could hope. Andrea seemed strong enough. If she couldn't come herself, she could send someone. Maybe she hadn't drunk the tainted wine. Maybe my brother could run faster than a speeding bullet, save the other vampires and get back to us before Adam and Niko fried. There were a hell of a lot of maybes floating around here.

  "It's too close to dawn,” Niko reminded me. “They'll all be hiding, sleeping. If they haven't been drugged into insensibility with the hemlock. John will make sure they get into their coffins."

  If they're not all already permanently dead. We didn't say the words. We didn't have to.

  "I though you said you preferred a bed?"

  "A coffin is the only sure safety, my sweet. In an emergency, we hide below ground.” Adam gave me a weak smile.

  "Then we're stuck here."

  "You can leave. You should leave."

  "And leave you—the two of you—to die? Not an option. Even if you scoot to the far back of this overhang and I try to cover you, we're still facing east. The sun is going to spill in here with a vengeance and you're going to become a crispy critter. I can tell how weak you are. You're fading, Adam. You've got to feed."

  "I won't feed from the dead, Keira."

  "I'm not talking about the bodies, Adam,” I said. “I'm not dead and I'm right here, full of blood. You can feed from me."

  "No."

  "This isn't a matter for discussion, Adam Walker. I am not going to let you die because of some ridiculous principle."

  "Would you ask an alcoholic to drink wine? A junkie to shoot up just one time?"

  "It's not the same thing,” I argued.

  "Nearly enough,” he said. “Human blood is more than a drug. It took decades for me to kick the need. I am not going back now. I'll take my chances."

  "I'm not asking that you shoot up a speedball, damn it! Drinking blood is what and who you are."

  This nobler-than-thou attitude was going to result in his death and I wasn't about to accept that.

  "Need I remind you, vampire king, that I am as much not a human as you are? The only difference between us is that I'm not the walking dead. You'll be the extremely not-walking-dead if you don't bloody well do something about it. Feed from me. I doubt that losing a little blood will hurt me. After we get out of here, if you want to go back to being a fucking vegetarian, then fine. But in the meantime, feed."

  With a visible effort, he turned his face away from me.

  Niko had kept silent through this exchange, watching me, lost in his own thoughts. I didn't need to ask him his opinion. Annoyingly, I realized that both he and I were of one mind on this matter. Principles be damned, survival was the key. Martyrdom was for, well, for martyrs. That particular job description held no interest for me. I preferred to be a live lion, as I was sure did Niko.

  Our gazes met and held. For a brief moment, I saw the truth behind the cocky attitude—the determination to live. He had been telling the truth about his deal with the Nazis. With the perspective that can only be found after several lifetimes, he'd realized that to save his people, he had to make a bargain and had danced on the edge of a very sharp sword to keep both the vampires and the villagers alive during a hellish time. But the knowledge of failure also lurked behind those bright blue eyes, that the sword turned out to be sharper than he could ever have imagined. Niko hadn't counted on the fact that human men could commit acts of such pure evil as the Holocaust.

  "You'd stay here to save me?” Niko finally asked, sounding unsure.

  "I do what I have to. No matter what you did in the past,” I said. “I don't pretend to understand. All I know is that you made a terrible error in judgment and only you and your own conscience can live with that. I won't be your judge or your jury. What Adam does with you is his decision. He's your king. I'm not.” This wasn't easy. I couldn't get the images of those small children sacrificed to the Nazis, but being who I was, and who my family was, I'd grown up learning that every story has several sides. I was in no position right now to make any kind of moral decision about this. No matter what, I still had to help him.

  Niko bowed his head and remained silent. Sometimes punishment was not death, but eternal life, living with the guilt of unintentionally sacrificing dozens of people to torture and evil.

  The pressure increased, the day had just about arrived. The quality of the air changed, a slight breeze arose, bringing the scent of morning with it.

  The first fingers of light crept over the horizon, slid across the ground, snaking closer. Threatening. I spread my body across the front of them, trying to block as much of it as possible. But the light was as inevitable as the day, and it pushed past me, almost as if to mock me, a ray catching first the body of Derek Albright, then alighting on Adam's cheek.

  He winced, a gasp of fear escaping him, a hiss of pain as the light touched him. I moved to cover his face, but there was too much, light spilled over and around me as the sun rose above the edge of the quarry. I couldn't stop it.

  Niko curled into a small ball, trying to cover himself. He wasn't complaining, but he was healthier, had fed recently, and could probably stand the burning for a time. Adam hunched into a fetal position, up against Niko's side.

  I couldn't stand this. No matter what happened later, the recriminations, the guilt, I was not going to let Adam die. I forced my wrist against his mouth.

  "Feed, damn it, feed.” His nostrils flared, I could imagine him taking in the scent of blood, of life as it pumped just below my skin. I grabbed the back of his head with my other hand, pressing his head to me.

  "I can't let you die, Adam Walker."

  He clenched his jaw, muscles straining, lips pressed together tighter than a reluctant virgin's legs. Fear and longing ruffled through me, a discordant riff of emotion, counterpoint to the thumping sound of my own heart, heard as if from the outside; the rush of blood pumping, the remembered taste of glory filling my taste buds. Adam's hunger surrounded me. Hi
s weakness colored the need and, below both of those emotions, I felt the buried imperative that he so desperately tried to ignore. The one that both his second-in-command and I embraced so thoroughly: the need to endure, to survive, to live, no matter the cost. If I could reach that need and force Adam to acknowledge it, maybe then he could accept my blood and the fact that it was part of his nature.

  I moved away momentarily, trying to figure out how to accomplish this. A moan escaped him, and a pang of craving flavored with panic stabbed through me. The hunger flared higher, stronger, overwhelming the apprehension as the reality of another shaft of light reached in to touch his face, sapping his energy. The connection faded as I felt him lose consciousness. I reached over to Niko, thrusting my wrist in front of him.

  "Do it, Niko, bring the blood."

  "Do you know what you're asking?"

  "Yes, now hurry."

  Niko's eyes met mine as he strained his head forward, wincing in the light. His fangs extended and I pushed my wrist into his face. His jaw muscles tensed and then he struck.

  The pain was instantaneous and sharp. Small needles sinking into the sensitive skin, then just as quickly, numbness. A quick sucking motion and the blood began to flow. I started to pull my wrist away, when Niko's tongue gave a quick lick.

  "Couldn't help myself,” he said, a slight grin crossing his face.

  Ignoring him, I moved over to Adam's side, and rubbed the bloody wrist against his too-still mouth. He wasn't breathing, but that didn't mean anything.

  "Drink, damn, you,” I said, cradling his head again. “Come on, Adam, drink."

  His throat convulsed, and his lips twitched, tongue flicking out briefly as he scented the blood on my wrist.

  "That's it,” I encouraged. “Drink, save yourself, damn it."

  Another sharp pain as Adam's own teeth took the place of Niko's. He began to swallow, mouth working, throat gulping, drinking in the only thing that could save his life ... or undeath. Sensation washed over me, searing dark longing and passion swirling with the metal heat flavor of the fresh blood filling my mouth, fighting off the burning of the sun. My own passion rose, matching the intensity of Adam's rising energy. I took a deep breath and tried to dampen down the connection enough to concentrate. He continued to drink, tongue licking my wrist like a cat's, lightly flicking, teasing, as his eyes caught mine in their gaze. I shuddered and closed my own eyes as the image of the two of us locked together, bodies straining, sweaty with—