Breed: Slayer

by Sandra Seymour

  “There may not be time for such assurances, Howard.” Falk tells him.

  “You do not understand,” Howard persists, despite the clear warning on Falk’s face, “it could kill you as well as them. Without further testing, there is no way to be sure ...”

  “Ironic as it is, Howard, for once, time is a luxury we do not have. We will have to take precautions, that is all.”

  Howard rubs his hand from his chin to temple and back down again. “Sire, I would not have this on my hands,” he shakes his head, pleading silently with Falk. “Please, give me more time.”

  “You will have as long as you have.” Alaric’s tone is dismissive. “We can no more slow the enemy down than we can dissuade their attack.”

  The conversation drifts away from Howard’s research to the enemy’s advance. Apparently, The Breed slayers have attached themselves to a Serbian army advancing into Romania, happy to wait in the wings as the human conflict edges ever nearer. The cities of Timisoara, Arad, and Resita have already fallen into Serbian hands, caught unawares. The Romanian authorities have gathered their forces and are engaged in attempts to prevent nearby Hunedoara from being overrun. No one seems to hold out much hope for their chances. It seems inevitable, once Hunedoara falls, the Serbians and the slayers will turn their attention to the military base in the mountains.

  They have garnered most of what I learned from Dillon, from Libby, and other sources, and I feel no need to add to their information.

  Falk is talking to me as if I were a willing defector. He refers to the part I am to play in the coming battles, and I question him.

  “It is simple, my dear child,” his smooth voice is icy and insincere. “You can either lead us, or not.”

  “And if I choose not?”

  I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming, but I want to hear him say it. It’s Alaric who gives me my answer though.

  “Then you will ensure the survival of our great nation by,” the pause is slight but pointed, “your continued contribution to our scientific endeavours.”

  Great. So according to their plans, I can either go into battle against the other slayers, and deflect some of their rage from the vampires, giving them a slight chance, or be hauled off back to the cages for more torture.

  It doesn’t take much working out what they have in store for me. “Test subject,” is the term bandied about. And there are no prizes for guessing what they want to test on me, the only slayer to hand. Just as well I have other plans.

  “Howard?” My voice is low, threatening to my own ears.

  “Please, Maxi, just do what they ask.” His face is stone, devoid of all emotion, but I can feel his despair.

  “Okay,” I lie, turning back to Falk and Alaric, “I’ll lead your army. Just keep them out of my way afterwards; I don’t know if I will be able to stop myself from killing them as well.”

  “Oh,” Alaric’s tone is light now, “I don’t think that will be an issue.”

  I shiver in real dread, for the first time in my life. I’m not sure at this point who is more dangerous, Sam or Alaric. I am very much aware both are my enemies. Ignoring Alaric, I address Falk.

  “I have just one condition.”

  “Really?” Falk’s raised eyebrows show his surprise that I feel I have any bargaining power, but he nods for me to continue.

  “Libby has to leave. I will not fight with her around to get caught in the crossfire.”

  There is no room for argument in my voice. I am letting them know I am sick of playing to their tune.

  “Oh no,” Falk replies and it is clear just how much concern he has for my wishes, “she stays.”

  My mother, the witch

  WHEN THE VAMPIRES disperse after the gathering, I head back to Howard’s quarters, and he follows me. I am so angry with him, I can’t speak. I can cope with the pain and the experiments, but I only put up with them so that Libby would not be harmed, and now he has let this happen to her.

  “Maxi, wait,” he grabs my arm and turns me to face him. I glare at him, waiting for some kind of explanation, but he seems to be lost for words.

  “Why didn’t you speak up?” I hiss the words through gritted teeth. “Do you want this? Is that what your research was really all about all those years? Ridding the world of the rasa?”

  If his face weren’t already so pale, he would blanch. He releases his grip on my arm as if I had stung him. “Of course not. How can you say that?”

  “Because since we got here you have done nothing to help us. You have stood by and let them drive Libby insane, and you’ve watched them torture me. You’ve gone along with everything they’ve said and done, and you’ve manipulated me into doing the same.”

  I’m yelling at him in the middle of the courtyard, and he is looking at me in stunned confusion, as if none of what I’m saying has even occurred to him.

  “You’ve changed,” I step in close to him, pointing my finger in his face accusingly. “You’re not my father. My father would never have gone along with any of this. You’re just a spineless excuse for a man. Libby was wrong. You don’t have a good soul. You don’t have a soul.”

  “Did you listen to anything that was said in there?” He’s angry.

  He reaches out to grab my arm again as I turn to walk away, but I yank it away from him, not wanting to hear anything he has to say. What can he possibly have to say that will make any of this any better?

  He runs past me and blocks the entrance to the building that leads back to the lab and his quarters.

  “Since we got here, you have been itching to leave. Where exactly do you plan to go? Do you not understand this is the safest place on earth right now, for all of us?”

  I bark a scornful laugh at him. “For you, maybe. There is nothing safe about this place for Libby, and in case you haven’t noticed, most of them still want to kill me.”

  He grips my shoulders and shakes me. “Maxi, darling, right now, out there, everyone wants to kill you. The Breed, the Calugari, the Maici Strigele, heck even most of the Credinciosi are converging on those gates baying for your blood. In here at least there are a few dissenters keeping you alive. If Quidel can prevail on Princess Lilleth to intervene, Alaric, and even Falk, won’t be able to touch you. Just hang in there.”

  I glare at him, tears forming in my eyes, but the sharp slap of the reality of his words is enough to puncture my anger.

  “Now, I know the situation here is far from ideal, but you have to trust me, Maxi. I am doing what I am doing to try and get us all through this. I may have made some mistakes in the past, and I am not proud of how they are using my research, but if helping them do this means they will offer you sanctuary, you had better believe that is what I am going to do. Because out there ...”

  Howard points at the gate to the compound, guarded now by even more vampires than when we arrived. He shakes his head. “Out there, you are history. Do you understand?”

  I nod and he lets me go. As we walk through the mountain, I’m still fighting back tears, but now they’re not of anger, they’re of frustration and hopeless self-pity.

  WHEN WE RETURN to Howard’s quarters and I open the door, Libby is on the bed, sweat dripping from her, her white nightgown sticking to her. Tilda and three other vampires are holding her down, as she thrashes against them, a guttural sound rumbling in her throat.

  I rush at them screaming, “Leave her alone!”

  The other three release her and scurry from the room, but Tilda remains. She is holding Libby’s head in her hands, concentration straining her features. She is driving my mother insane.

  “Get out,” I hiss at her, grabbing her by the wrist and throwing her across the room.

  She looks back at me uncomprehendingly, then shakes her head, “I can’t reach her any more, Maxine, she is beyond me.”

  I can’t believe Tilda has the nerve to pretend she’s trying to help Libby, just one more lie on top of all the others. I feel an urge to rip her to pieces; my jaw sets as my muscles begin t
o tighten. I fight to resist.

  “You should go,” Howard steps between us and speaks to Tilda. “I will take care of this.”

  He turns to face me, his fangs exposed. I can’t believe he is facing off against me, to protect her, after all he just said. He must know what she’s been doing to Libby, and yet he is siding with his vampire sire against his own flesh and blood. This cannot be happening.

  My own claws and fangs are on full display now, and I am fighting my natural impulse to destroy the monster before me. I’m trying to remember this is Howard, my beloved father, but right now I am so angry with him I would enjoy doing it.

  Howard moves around me to Libby’s side, and bends down beside her, catching me off guard. All that experimentation must have slowed my reflexes. He is wiping the sweat from her brow and crooning in her ear.

  Her thrashing has ceased, but she is still restless in the bed, her head tossing from side to side and her forearms waving around her face and chest. He nudges her head to one side and moves in close to her, whispering in her ear and then kissing her neck. She frowns and whimpers but her movements become less erratic. I see the venom begin to drip from his fangs, anaesthetizing the skin.

  “Get away from her!” I panic, and for a second, as the liquid splashes onto her throat, her pulse fluttering beneath the wet skin, I am unable to move.

  He thinks that turning her will end her misery, but I know, in a flash of insight, it will only cement her insanity for eternity. I remember her words, “it is not possible for me,” and I finally understand why Libby would not be turned: on some level she knew the effect the vampires would have on her.

  Shaking my head, I rush at him and drag him to the ground. He does not fight me, and flops in my arms, sobbing. My rage subsides as quickly as it rose, and I help him to a chair. He sits with his head in his hands for a while, then looks at me in torment.

  “I do not know what to do, Maxi. I do not want to go against her wishes but I can no longer see any other way to spare her this agony. And it is beyond my power to spare you any pain at all. I do not want you to go into battle. I do not want to lose you to the slayers or the vampires, but I have no hope, Maxi. No hope at all.”

  He slumps forward, head in hands, and sobs.

  I feel more alone than I ever have in my life as I try to figure out how I am going to get all three of us out of this. Howard could probably have kept up with my plans, but not Libby. Even in good health, it would have been difficult for her. With a broken mind, she doesn’t stand a chance. Howard is right, there is no hope.

  I pace around the room. Now, the knots in my stomach are not so much from hunger, as from dread and anxiety. Howard may have got us into this, but looking at him it’s evident it is going to be down to me to get us all out. I look over at Libby, trying to decide if I can carry her in this condition. She is clutching something to her breast in her right hand, on a chain around her neck. It’s her cross. The Sacred Heart of the Maici. Something clicks into place, and I see a way.

  “Father Patrick!”

  I spin round to face Howard before he has had chance to sit up, wiping the tears from his eyes.

  “She told me she was brought up by the Maici Strigele, the vampire-slaying nuns? I thought Father Patrick was visiting her because she wouldn’t go to church, then because the nuns sent him to keep an eye on us, but the nuns thought she was a dud. They wouldn’t care. And you told me Father Patrick belongs to the Credinciosi, and they’re sympathetic to the cause. He wasn’t visiting her all those years, he was visiting you. He was your link back here to Quidel.”

  Howard nods and shakes his head at the same time creating a comical circular motion. “Yes, but …”

  “Don’t you see? She reacts to vampires, just like I do. That’s why you can’t turn her. I thought it was part of being a half-breed, but I get it from her. Only she has no way to channel it, because she’s had no training. Tilda was right; it’s being surrounded by vampires. That’s what’s driving her mad. All we have to do is get her away from them, and she’ll go back to normal.”

  “How can you be sure?” Howard asks, the hope is returning to his eyes.

  I’m not sure. I’m clutching at straws, I know. But I have to do something, and this is the only thing I can think of.

  “Because it works for me.”

  “And why Father Patrick?”

  “He killed the reporter, hoping to protect you. He can get her out, I’m sure. Quidel must be able to reach him.”

  “The reporter? Protect me? What, when?”

  I wave his questions away, and quickly show him Dillon’s visions. He doesn’t ask where I got them from or question them. He just takes them at face value, grateful for the lifeline they present.

  “Yes,” Howard nods, a little enthusiasm returning. Then his face falls, as he realises this means he was wrong about The Coven being safe for Libby, “but Falk will never agree to it.”

  “He won’t for me, and maybe not for you, but he’ll do it for Quidel, and if not for him, for Tilda. You have to at least try, Howard.”

  I’m willing him to grow a backbone, to stop being a pawn in someone else’s plan, and to take matters into his own hands.

  Howard is on his feet now, pacing and clenching and flexing his hands. “I will make arrangements,” he says as he leaves.

  I sit by Libby’s bed, wiping the sweat from her. She is feverish. Suddenly she sits bolt upright, and grabs my hand, holding it to her burning cheek.

  She is livid now, her slender frame shaking. I have never seen her like this before. This is not my mother, the calm, practical, philosophical woman I loved so fiercely. This is a crazy person.

  “Omoara-i! Omoara-i pentru mine. Kill them!” She screeches. “Kill them for me. Vampires, slayers, I don’t care, Maxi. Just make it all stop.”

  She slumps, exhausted, and cries great raking sobs. Her slender frame quivers as she clutches at me.

  “It’s going to be okay. You’re going home.”

  It’s a simple statement of fact, and it brooks no argument. I’ve only ever used this tone with her once before, the last time she went to church. That was the day I told her I wanted no part of any higher being that damned my father, before Father Patrick began his monthly visits.

  Her skin is burning, her hair sodden and matted to her forehead. Her eyelids flicker as the premonitions begin again, and she begins to moan, and then mumble incoherently. I stroke the side of her face, and she seems to calm.

  “Libby,” I try to reach out, to breach the gap.

  “Eu va fi cu tine. I will be with you,” she opens her eyes and grabs my hand, but she is looking right through me, lost in her torment. “Remember, when you need me you must call.”

  Then the tension leaves her body and she drifts back into unconsciousness.

  I SPEND THE night in vigil, wiping the sweat from Libby’s brow and trying to keep her comfortable. One of the two doors along the back wall of the room leads to a small bathroom, and I am relieved to find here, at least, there is running water. I empty the fruit from the bowl and fill it with cold water, ripping a length of material from one of the bed sheets and using it to cool her, trying to reduce the fever.

  Just before sunrise there’s a knock at the door. I open it to find Quidel, alone. I stand aside and he enters the room. I look into the corridor, but there is no sign of Faruk. Seizing the chance to get a glimpse inside the trueblood’s mind, I project my focus onto him, but before I can make a connection he turns towards me.

  “That is a bad habit you have, Maxine. One of these days it will get you into real trouble.”

  I want to say something sarcastic like, “You think?” or “What, you mean worse than this?” but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is, “Sorry.”

  “If you want to know something, why don’t you just ask?”

  “Because no one around here ever tells me the truth.”

  We stare at each other. Finally, I decide it’s worth a shot.

 
“You have been in contact with Howard all along?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you keep his secret?”

  He pauses, I get the sense he is searching for the right words.

  “I respect your father. I chose to respect his wishes. Life for a half-blood here can be, shall we say, difficult? I would not have wished it on you, Maxine. I would never have wished it on anyone else.”

  “You’re a half breed?” I’m incredulous. I’m even more confused when he shakes his head.

  “No, I am Moroi, of pure blood, but I have watched another attempt to fit in, only to be exiled. I had a son of the Cursa Moroi, of mixed blood.”

  “What happened?”

  “He was not strong or fast like you. In fact, he was barely more than human. The other vampires rejected him.”

  “But I thought all dhampirs were …” I begin, but falter. I’m not sure what I thought.

  “You have seen it with Howard’s mice, have you not? Some are like you, some like Sam, and some are untainted. My son was simply a gentle mouse, figuratively speaking. Although he has, thankfully, lived a long and healthy life.”

  “Is he still alive?”

  “Of course,” Quidel smiles, “you have met him many times. In fact, it is because of him I am here.” Quidel laughs at my confusion.

  “You mean Father Patrick is your son? He’s a half-breed, like me, and I couldn’t tell all these years?”

  “He is Elizondo, just as you are Tornicasa, yes. He has none of the powers, so there is nothing to give him away, but you will be able to test your observational skills on him during the day, if you choose. He will be here later on to collect Libby and her things. Perhaps you would be so good as to greet him. I and the other vampires will, of course, be indisposed.”

  “Has Falk agreed to her leaving?”

  “Let me worry about Falk,” Quidel smiles again. “He will come around, in time. Once she is gone, he will not make any effort to recapture her. It is close enough.”

  He turns to leave but I stop him.

  “I thought our fate rested in his hands, as Tornicasa?”