by A. M. Manay
“Vampires of my age do not have feelings about human children,” he said in a hard voice. “You forget your place. This conversation is over.”
“My place? My place? What, are my words not worth listening to?” she asked. “Or do you just hate yourself so much that you think you don’t deserve to be happy?” Her face flushed with anger.
In the blink of an eye, he grabbed November by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall. “I caution you, do not provoke me further,” he whispered through bared fangs.
She still wasn’t afraid, merely furious. “You do realize that you’re not the only person you’re consigning to loneliness? I don't have the option to go find someone else to be happy with. No one is going to get near me for fear of offending you. Except, perhaps, your enemies. I'm not even allowed to leave the house.” To this, he said nothing.
“You know, I’m starting to think I was better off in the carnival. First your ridiculous son pretends to love me when he doesn’t, and now you pretend not to care about me when you do. I save your life and countless others. I suffer and nearly die for you people. I offer you a chance to be happy again. And what do I get in return? Threats and scorn. You're an emotional cripple and a pathetic excuse for a man.” Still, he said nothing. He merely clenched his jaw.
"Fine,” she spat, “have it your way. Enjoy your endless misery, your grace. I’ll go find some other way to be happy.” Ilyn stepped back when she tried to shove him away. "Know this: if you think I'm not worthy of you while I'm alive, you're sure as hell not worthy of me after I'm dead."
She strode toward the door and turned back to add, “And if you ever lay a hand on me in anger again, so help me God I will make you wish you hadn’t.” And then she was gone.
November found Pine waiting around the corner. One look at her face was enough to prompt him to say, “That could have gone better.”
“Your king needs a shrink.”
“No comment,” the fairy replied. “Are you alright?”
“I need to get out of this house before I lose what’s left of my mind.”
“We’ll all be leaving to go Las Vegas tomorrow or the day after, I think,” Pine answered.
“Not soon enough. I won’t sleep another night in that room. I’ll go stay in the Livermore house until we have to leave. We're flying out of Livermore anyway, right?” She stopped and turned to look straight at him. “Can you make that happen for me? Please. I thought this place was a sanctuary, and now it feels like a prison. I have reached the limit of my tolerance, and if I don’t get a break, I will flip a lid in the middle of this Assembly.”
“I think I can manage it. I’ll go talk to my betters,” Pine promised.
“Thank you,” she said sincerely. She squeezed his hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and Zinnia.”
“It isn’t that he doesn’t care about you. He’s just not ready to let go and start over. And I think he genuinely believes that you’re better off without him. You know that, right?” Pine said gently.
“Well, maybe he should have thought about that before he made me love him,” she retorted. “Don’t worry, I’ll go back to feeling sorry for him one the rage wears off. Speaking of which, any chance this fairy magic thing will also wear off? It’s putting a serious cramp in my ability to remain infuriated.”
“It doesn’t fade for fairies. It just grows stronger over time. But I’ve never heard of it happening to a human before, so who knows?”
“How encouraging.”
By the time Pine returned with permission to head out to the ranch, November already had a bag packed. An hour later, the two of them were shooting arrows into hay bales and watching the sky get dark behind the hills. November felt a bit more free already. Even the car ride itself had been a little thrill, though she’d had to curl up on the floor of the back seat until they got on the interstate. She hadn’t even minded the traffic between Pleasanton and Livermore.
To her happy surprise, Savita appeared as soon as it got dark. She’d given up the search for Luka until the Assembly ended. The trail had gone cold.
Savita must have been warned by Pine or her brother, because she was careful to avoid the king as a topic of conversation until November brought it up herself. They were sitting on the stone patio behind the house: November, Pine, Savita, and Noemi. Greg turned up as well, joining them after he chased down a coyote for supper. They lit the gas heaters for November’s benefit and sat around while she snacked on fruit from the garden. “Savita,” she demanded bluntly, “what can you tell me about these crazy men you’re related to?”
“Hey, now,” Greg protested.
“Present company obviously excepted,” November allowed. “You are definitely my current favorite,” she added, smiling.
Savita laughed. “William and Ilyn can be a bit hard to take,” she answered. “My father wasn’t always this difficult. Marisha’s death undid him. She kept him young, somehow. Most vampires of their age, they become sort of ossified. They stop being interested in changing, in the world that’s changing around them. But Mother always kept up with the latest human doings, and somehow, she never quite got as heartless as most of us do. You frighten him because you make him feel things he thought he’d long since left behind, like love and happiness and guilt and concern. He thought he was done with all of that. Of course, his human life wasn’t easy, either.”
“I saw him placing his wife and his son on a pyre, when I was unwell,” November said sadly. “And I saw when Marisha turned him, but I didn’t see anything in between.”
“He was a mercenary. In his grief, he wanted to destroy things, and the constant wars obliged him. I think he meant to get killed, but he was just too good at warfare. When he met Marisha, she was moving over a battlefield, feeding and putting the doomed out of their misery. He was terrified to realize what she was, but still, he found her beautiful, and so gentle,” Savita replied, obviously telling a story she’d heard many times. “She truly was strangely gentle for a vampire. Perhaps because she was an empath, like Zinnia, which is a most unusual gift for our kind. It is difficult to reconcile empathy with our . . . predatory nature.”
“And Lord William?” she asked.
Pine and Savita laughed. “He’s actually better than he was. Esther’s tamed him a bit. Even when he was human, he was egotistical, quick-tempered, and cavalier with women. I think he’d bedded every woman within a day's ride of his village before he got killed on the battlefield.”
“Why did your parents turn him?” Noemi asked curiously, breaking into the conversation.
“After the battle, the two of them went looking for the wounded who might be saved. These were their men, after all, fighting under their banner. William was too far gone to live, but not too far to change. He was a very good blacksmith, and a brave soldier. He’d served them well and loyally for years, so they chose to give him a new life. I think they also thought it would be good for me to have a friend nearer my own age.” She sighed before continuing. “It was hard for me, leaving India and coming to Europe with them, thought that was my own fault. Sometimes I had to pretend to be a servant Ilyn had picked up on crusade. It was humiliating.”
“How was it your fault?” November asked. Her three companions exchanged glances. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be prying. It’s none of my business,” she apologized.
“It’s alright. You’ll hear about it sooner or later,” Savita said softly. “I was very angry when I was first turned. I did not want to be a vampire, but Ilyn forbade me from killing myself. You see, in the first few decades, it is almost impossible for us to disobey our makers. This helps us survive our early years. And I was so young when I died. I was quite volatile. Anyway, one night I lost control and slaughtered a lot of people. Innocent people. Enough of them that we could no longer stay in India, as it was impossible to cover up adequately. So we headed to Europe and eventually wound up in Scotland for awhile. That's where they made William and Luka.” They were all quiet for a momen
t. It was hard for November to picture Savita doing something so horrible.
“What about Luka?” November finally asked tentatively.
“Ah, the black sheep. He knew what we were even before he died. He was a scribe, worked closely with Ilyn on the accounts and such. He never left the castle, and saw no one but us and the other servants, so we stopped bothering to enthrall him after awhile. He was crippled, you see: born with twisted legs. He’d have wound up dead or a beggar if a priest hadn’t felt sorry for him and taught him to read in Latin and to do figures. We found him in Italy on the way from Asia to Scotland. Ilyn bought him from the priest.
"He served my parents from the time he was eleven until he was about forty-five and Mother finally changed him. He had first asked them years before, but it took Marisha some time to convince Ilyn. Finally, when he took a bad fever, Mother brought him over. He wanted physical strength to go with his intelligence. He wanted strong legs, to be stronger than all the humans who had ever looked down on him. He wanted power and money and women.”
“Don’t we all?” Pine interrupted to cut the tension. "Okay, maybe not the women in my case."
Savita smiled. “I liked Luka. We understood each other. We both knew what it was like to be humiliated. William, of course, that was another story. Even when he was human, William was everything Luka despised and envied all at once: this burly blacksmith, the strongest man in the village, a different woman every week, half a dozen bastards, arrogant and highly competent, so everyone put up with it. And the worst part was how kind William was to Luka. William designed a sort of wheelchair for him, built it himself one Christmas without even being asked. Luka hated having to be grateful to him. And when they turned Luka, so soon after making William, rivalry was inevitable.”
“Do you love him?” Pine asked curiously.
“I did, until he started blowing people up,” she answered sadly. "Maybe I still do." With a deep breath, she changed the subject and turned to Greg. “What about you, raja? Would you like to share your story?”
“I was born in Georgia a slave. I ran away. Savita found me dying in a ditch. I’d gotten wounded in the course of my escape. Infection had set in, of course. She offered me the choice of a quick death or a new life in freedom. Obviously, I chose the latter,” Greg said matter-of-factly. "We helped slaves escape to Canada until the Civil War came and went."
“That’s when we started migrating west. Eventually, all of us wound up all the way out here,” Savita concluded.
“How did you two meet?” Noemi asked Noemi and Savita.
“I grew up on a ranch in Southern California,” Noemi answered. “I married and had a child, as was expected of me. My maker was riding through our land one night. He saw me sitting on the porch, sewing. He decided that instant that he had to have me and stole me away, changed me that night. Felipe is a very impulsive, passionate man, even now. At least he let my kin find me and bury me that day, so they wouldn’t think I had run off and abandoned them. That gave me some comfort, but it was hard for me, at first, because I missed my family so much. I had no desire for my husband, but I still loved him. He was a good man, gentle and hard-working and patient with a wife who shrank from his touch. And of course, I loved my little girl. That was the worst part.
"But Felipe was kind to me, taught me how to survive in this life, and I was happy enough. I didn’t realize what had been missing in my life until I met Savita.” She turned to her wife and smiled. “Felipe realized I was smitten even before I did myself. He loved me enough to let me go.”
“Is that all of you in the family?” November asked Savita, fascinated by the tale of their history, which was filling in a lot of gaps between glimpses she’d accumulated over the previous months.
“Esther is William’s progeny as well as his wife. He found her while he spent some time as a pirate. Ilyn also has two older children, Raina and Emil, siblings we haven’t seen in centuries. They elected to stay in Europe when we left for adventure in America. They came to visit after Mother died, but we haven’t heard from them since. They probably have some children, but I’ve never met them. They’ve mostly been living in Russia, I believe. For a time, Raina ruled Persia.”
“Does Luka have any children?”
“No. His disdain for human beings only grew once he was one of us.” Her face darkened. “There was one girl, poor child, whom he tried to turn. She was like you, a prophetess. He found her in Spain, just before they were about to burn her for a witch. She failed to rise. It was a terrible disappointment to him. He’s always said that he was searching for someone worthy of the honor, someone special,” Savita replied, glancing at November and quickly looking away.
“Someone like November,” Pine stated flatly, his honesty crashing into the middle of what had been a very pleasant evening.
“That is likely his intention, to make her his child,” Savita admitted. “We must do our best to shield you from that fate,” she added in November’s direction.
November felt suddenly cold. “Wait, you said something a few minutes ago . . . that you can’t disobey your maker for the first few years. So if Luka were to . . . kill me and make me come back, I would have to do whatever he wanted? He could force me to help him to terrible things? And I wouldn’t even be able to kill myself so he couldn’t use me?” Her hands twisted in her lap.
Everyone nodded and grew quiet. Savita spoke first. “It is a very bad thing indeed, to have a bad maker. We were all lucky enough to have parents who did not abuse their power over us.”
“We got lucky in the gas station, that they sent such a young fairy that you were able to kill him, and we got lucky again that Ben was so inept,” Pine said in the most serious tone November had ever heard from him. “We got lucky that you were able to see Lilith’s plan before more people got killed and before she could spirit you away. But if that luck runs out, we need to be able to find you before Luka harms you or turns you.”
November slowly raised her head, instinctively knowing that this conversation was going somewhere she wasn’t going to like. Pine pulled a vial of blood out of his jacket pocket.
“No way,” November said quickly, shrinking back into her chair. “Not gonna happen.”
“It will help us find you,” Pine argued. “Just one sip of the king’s blood. That’s what they required of me, before the king and Lord William would give permission for you to come out here. They made me promise that I’d get you to drink this.”
“I already had Lord William’s blood,” she retorted.
“It was one drop, and it was months ago,” he replied evenly. “It won’t work anymore. We’re about to travel, which increases the opportunity for Luka to try something. We can’t risk it.”
“Why does it have to be his?” she asked, beginning to panic.
“He’s the oldest. His blood has the most power. With my blood, if he got you a couple of hundred miles away, I might lose you,” Savita explained gently.
“Can’t you just put some kind of chip in me or something?” November asked, grasping at straws.
“They only work from close by, and he’d just cut it out of you anyway,” Pine answered a bit brutally.
“If you make me do this, I won’t sleep for a week. I’ll wake up screaming. I’ll see him all the time. It’s bad enough, all this fairy magic and his ridiculous behavior. Now this, on top of it? I’d rather be back with my mother,” she said with some heat.
“Unfortunately, that isn’t an option,” Pine replied, cool and implacable.
“November, please drink it. I wouldn’t be asking you to do something this difficult if I didn’t think it was in your best interest,” Savita said, leaning forward, trying to persuade her.
“Are you sure it’s not because I’m your family’s favorite weapon at the moment?” November responded, anger now winning out over fear.
“Perhaps that would have been true before I knew you, before I worked with you on those bombings. Before you saved the life of my only chi
ld, as well as countless others.” Savita knelt on the ground next to November’s chair.
Quiet Greg finally chimed in. “I hate that we are pushing you to do something against your will. November, I owe you my life, and I don’t want to see you lose yours. Please just drink it. We’ll all help take care of you after, we promise.”
“Sometimes, choosing to live is the most difficult thing you can do,” Pine said gently. “You know that better than any of us. It would be a shame for you to have fought so hard to recover only to die at Luka’s hands because we couldn’t find you fast enough. Please, November.”
November looked into their faces, and what she saw there was sincere concern, even a hint of fear. She closed her eyes for a moment. "You tell him. You tell him that I don't know if I can forgive him this."
When she opened them, she stood up, grabbed the vial, and drank it down without saying a word.
Savita caught her before she hit the concrete.
Chapter 12
Ilyn kneels by a pile of ash, weeping, rending his clothes. Ilyn standing next to a pyre, weeping, rending his clothes. Ilyn teaches a little boy how to fish. Ilyn holds Savita as she cries silent tears of blood. Ilyn runs down a long hallway, surrounded by smoke and screaming. Ilyn helps November down into her grave. Ilyn cries on November’s pillow. Ilyn sings to her in the bathtub. Ilyn on battlefield after battlefield. Ilyn in bed with Marisha. Ilyn marrying Nadi. Ilyn screams, stabbed again and again. Ilyn feeds on an endless parade of humans. Ilyn gives William his blood. Ilyn and blood. Ilyn and death. Ilyn and birth. Forever.
