Warrior Rising

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “Doesn’t Luca know what to expect?” Nevada pointed to Chloe’s stomach, then dropped her hand.

  “No. This is sort of unheard of.” And wasn’t that just great. She’d been a vampire less than a week, and already she was making history. She caught and held Nevada’s eye, and the witch flinched a little. “Help me.”

  * * *

  “I told you no one would be here.” The voice came from the front of the store. Young, with a slight southern accent, it sounded like a bell to Sorin.

  He was hungry.

  “Someone must be here,” another voice — just as young, but with not so much of an accent — responded. “The door was unlocked. Duh. Hello?” she called. And again, “Hello? Anyone?” After a moment the voice, closer now, said, “Jeez, the store has been open for hours, and no one’s here?”

  “News flash,” the first girl said with more than a touch of sarcasm. “Vampires. No one is out looking for new clothes or shoes or perfume.”

  “What are they doing, then?”

  “They’re home, watching the news, or else shopping for food and weapons while the sun’s out. Hello.”

  “I don’t know. Some of them are bad, I saw that on the news, but really, don’t you think the whole idea of vampires is kinda sexy? I read these books…”

  “Sexy? Have you lost your mind?”

  The girls, growing ever closer, were moving nearer and nearer to a hungry Sorin. They smelled so good. He could drain them both and be satisfied. He might even be able to leave this place before the sun set.

  Nevada had ruined him. These girls — he could smell them more keenly now, see them, though they did not yet see him — were daughters. Perhaps sisters or mothers or friends. They were not expendable. Just a few days ago he would not have given a second thought to their humanity. To their worth. Now he saw more than blood.

  But he had to feed.

  Sorin glanced back. Indikaiya slept on the floor behind him. She had taken no comfort, created no pillow or mattress from the clothing all around. After they’d bathed as best they could in small, white-tiled bathrooms, and she’d eaten stale crackers and drunk two bottles of water she’d found in an employee break room, she’d simply laid down on the hard floor and closed her eyes.

  She slept, still. Just as well.

  The two girls gasped when they saw him standing there. Immediately he caught their gaze — one and then the other — and they relaxed. They did not see him as a threat, would not, as long as the simple glamour lasted. They were pretty. One redheaded and one brunette. One thin and the other more rounded. They were nicely dressed, and wore high heeled shoes that made them look taller than they truly were.

  Even in heels, they were shorter than Indikaiya.

  He stepped toward the girls, smiling. His eyes would be glowing, he knew that, but neither of them was alarmed. “I’m hungry,” he whispered.

  The brunette actually jumped up and down a little, then said, “Me first, me first!” She looked at her friend and waggled her eyebrows. “Just like in that book I read.” She pushed her hair aside, offering her throat.

  He was so hungry.

  He leaned down, his fangs extended, and he bit into the offered throat. It would be so easy to drain her, toss her aside, and take the other. But as he drank he paid attention to the essence of her. She loved and was loved. She saw good in everyone and everything. Naive? Yes. Stupid? Once he would have thought so. He stopped well short of draining her, licked the wounds in her throat to facilitate a quick healing, and then turned to the other.

  This time he drank slower. His fangs sunk in, he lifted the girl so her feet dangled well off the floor. She was not as sweet in essence as the first, but she was good. Smarter than she allowed others to see, as hungry for love as he was for her blood. As he had with the first girl, he dropped her well short of damaging her in any way, licked her throat, and stepped away. He took their hands, one and then another, then bent to kiss each one in turn. The redhead sighed. The brunette shivered.

  A soft sound caught his attention, and he turned to see Indikaiya standing directly behind him, her eyes hard, the sword in her hand ready.

  * * *

  “A man’s gotta eat,” Sorin said.

  Indikaiya didn’t drop her sword. The two girls he’d fed from appeared to be unharmed. Calm even. That had to be vampire magic. “Are they damaged?”

  “No.”

  “Swear it.”

  “I so swear.”

  “You did use your unholy magic upon them, though, did you not?”

  He was the Sorin she had come to know, a man — a vampire — who was relaxed, casual, much more comfortable in this time than he should be, given his age. In an instant that changed. His posture shifted, became almost threatening. Almost? Handsome as he was, he presented a terrifying picture. Hard; strong; hungry. His eyes glowed an unnatural blue, and his fangs extended.

  “Why is my magic any more unholy than your own?” he asked. “My life is long, and I do what I must to survive, as you do.” He took a step closer, moved unwisely closer to her sword. He lowered his voice as he said, “There was a time not so long ago when I would’ve taken my time with these willing humans. I would’ve fed, and fucked, and fed some more. I would have taken them both, they would’ve been mine for hours, perhaps days. They would’ve been glad of it, undamaged and satisfied, if a bit weak. So don’t give me any shit about taking what I need and nothing more.”

  One of the girls behind him said, “Did he say fuck? I wouldn’t mind. I haven’t had a boyfriend in ages, which means I haven’t had an orgasm in ages, and he is hot. In that book I read vampires are, like, really good at the sex stuff. Maybe because they’ve had so much practice.”

  “I’ve never had a threesome,” the redhead whispered. “Oh my God! Thank goodness I wore my good underwear!”

  “Is that part of your glamour?” Indikaiya asked.

  “No,” Sorin answered, without offering any further explanation.

  “My name is Carly,” the brunette said.

  “Like he cares,” the redhead responded.

  “Hey, if we’re going to do it, I want him to know my name. This is Jane,” Carly added, pointing to her friend. “And in case you’re curious, the carpet does match the drapes. Natural redhead here.”

  Carpet? Drapes? Indikaiya was confused by that reference. No matter. It was clear these two humans wanted to lie with Sorin.

  Could she blame them? He was an impressive specimen of manhood. Not human, not Warrior, but still very much a man.

  Revealing nothing though she was unexpectedly bristling with a mixture of emotions she could not quite describe, she said, “It appears you have two willing partners just waiting for your attentions.” Panting for it. “I will be happy to wait near the front of the store while you fulfill all their desires.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” Sorin said. His fangs retreated. His eyes no longer glowed.

  Was that relief in her chest? No. She did not, could not care. She maintained her composure as she asked, “Are these willing women not the kind of sexual partner you prefer?”

  He didn’t respond immediately. And maybe his eyes did glow, a bit, as he said. “They are babies. Children. I want more.”

  “More what?” she asked, knowing as she did that she shouldn’t have asked, realizing as the words left her mouth that she should’ve walked away before the conversation had reached this point.

  “Indikaiya, Warrior woman, I want you.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nevada walked down the stairs almost tentatively. She took easy steps, her hand barely brushing the bannister. It wasn’t her first trip to the first floor of the mansion, but she’d been confined to her room for so long it still felt odd to venture far beyond it.

  She wouldn’t be in this house much longer, and that suited her just fine. Too much had happened here. Her world — the entire world — had changed since she’d been brought here against her will.

  Nevada felt tha
t change to her core. She wasn’t the same person she’d been when Sorin had kidnapped her. She couldn’t say if she was better or worse, but she was definitely different. The woman — the girl — she had once been had been so naive. Not stupid, not entirely clueless, but blind to too much of the world around her. That girl had lived in a bubble where if something didn’t affect her, it did not exist.

  She was glad to be moving to a new place. She didn’t know exactly where they were going, but it didn’t really matter.

  The army was on the move, and she was part of that army.

  After Chloe had left Nevada’s room, Nevada had tried to meditate, to search not for a magical spell she might find in a book, but rather reaching for the inherent magic that had slept inside her for so long. What she’d found, what she’d experienced, had startled her. She hadn’t thought that was possible, not after everything she’d been through, but in that meditation she’d found a connection to something, someone, some truth that rocked her to her core.

  She’d already decided not to say anything to anyone, not just yet, because how could she be sure that she was right about what she felt? Maybe her imagination was running amok. Maybe she was closer to the breaking point than she’d thought was possible. Who was she kidding? It was a miracle she wasn’t a raving lunatic.

  Nevada swung through the kitchen and grabbed an orange soda from the fridge and a pack of cookies — chocolate chip — from the counter. It was a nice kitchen, and someone was keeping it stocked. Not well stocked, but no one was going hungry. Except maybe the vampires. Too bad no one left here really knew how to cook. That one conduit who’d stayed behind had taken on the job, but she’d already moved on, following her Warrior to one of the other outposts. Besides, she hadn’t exactly been a great chef.

  Nevada would be satisfied with cookies, for the moment. There were some leftovers in the fridge, but nothing she wanted. She’d love a steak and a baked potato, a big plate of grilled shrimp and veggies, shoot, even one of her mother’s mystery casseroles would be heaven right now.

  There were eggs and bacon. Those were easy enough to prepare, if she got hungry later.

  With her drink and snack in hand, she headed toward the sound of a television in a massive den off the front entryway. A couple of Warriors and conduits, none she knew all that well, had gathered around a television to watch an all-news channel try to make sense of what was happening. Nevada remained in the doorway, ready to run if necessary. Lately she was always poised to make an escape. She trusted no one, felt safe nowhere. Well, maybe she trusted Rurik. Maybe she felt safe when he was around.

  Nevada half listened to the newscast, as she replayed her latest meditation again. Could she be right? Was what seemed to be real — a rush of knowledge as if someone had crammed it all into her head in one painful blast — actual fact?

  Chloe’s daughter, what — who — Nevada believed was going to be a half vamp half human amazing creature, was the one who should be queen of the vampires. (Queen of the humans? Not so much.) If Nevada was right, the child would possess her mother’s goodness and her father’s power. She would know love and kindness and strength. She would be amazing.

  One of the conduits glanced back. His eyes widened when he saw Nevada standing there. She offered a weak smile, and he quickly returned his attention to the television. A wave of sadness wafted through her. The man was afraid of her. In his mind, a witch wasn’t any better than a vampire. She possessed a power he did not. Even though as a conduit he himself had his own special ability, she could do things he didn’t and would never understand.

  Tough shit. What was happening here was too important for her to get her feelings hurt because not everyone liked her.

  The war that had begun here in this mansion was about more than vampires being tired of staying hidden in the shadows. That ship had sailed. Once they’ve talked about vampires on Fox News and CNN there was no going back. Vampires had been exposed to the world, and they’d never be able to hide again. That’s not what the war was about. Maybe once it had been, but not anymore.

  No, this war was about the bitch queen vs an as-yet unborn powerful being that no one, not even the oldest vampire, had seen coming.

  Nevada didn’t think she’d be unborn for much longer.

  * * *

  Indikaiya considered exiting the department store, leaving Sorin to his silly enamored humans and whatever activities the threesome preferred. If she wasn’t present he’d probably be having sex with them right now. Both at once, or one after the other. The vampire was walking sex, she knew that. In his hundreds of years he’d been with countless women, most of whom he’d also fed from. Had he left them damaged beyond repair? Turned them to his kind? Killed them? She walked toward the sunlight, head high, not looking back. She had come into this world to fight vampires, not tend to them. No matter how unexpectedly and disturbingly appealing they might be. No matter that she felt a soldier to soldier connection, which did come with the need and obligation to protect.

  She stopped by the front door. Sunlight fell on her, and on the deserted street before her. Given the number of shops in the area she doubted this part of town was ever deserted in the middle of the day. Today people were wisely staying in. Hiding. Preparing for the worst. At least, she hoped so. Humans needed to be prepared for whatever might come next.

  Her eyes fell on an establishment across the street. On the window there was a simple drawing of a cup and saucer, with wavy lines indicating steam. There would be food. She might walk across the street to see if anyone was there, and ask for nourishment. If no one was there, if the place was as deserted as this store had been when she and Sorin had arrived, she could surely find something. It was tempting. Rurik had filled many hours talking about food in this world. Pizza, hotdogs, french fries. She wouldn’t mind tasting one or all of those before she returned home.

  But her purpose here was to protect humans. Even those as silly as the two girls Sorin had fed from.

  She turned on her heel and headed for the back of the store, following the sound of chattering female and lowered male voices. What were they talking about? Anything was possible. It had been a long time, but as she recalled there wasn’t usually much chatter before or during sexual relations. If she walked upon an orgy she’d simply wait. Wait and watch and make sure Sorin didn’t harm the women who had thrown themselves at him.

  “No,” Sorin said, his deep voice unmistakable. “These.”

  One of the women sighed. “You’re not nearly as much fun as I thought you’d be.”

  Indikaiya found herself smiling, just a little, as she walked into an area of the store devoted to footwear. Most of what she saw was entirely impractical, and still, the shoes drew her attention in an unexpected way.

  “Those just came in,” the redhead — Jane — said. “They’re part of a new fall collection. My supervisor will kill me if I filch a pair.”

  “A vampire will kill you if you try to run in those.” Sorin pointed to the high heeled, insubstantial shoes on Jane’s feet.

  “Boots this time of year?” the other girl, Carly, whined. “It’s just wrong, for someone whose job is fashion. You’re a vampire, and you’re nice. Nice and big and you look really strong. Stay with us and maybe we won’t have to run.”

  Sorin moved so fast, he was a blur even to Indikaiya. He reached Carly in an instant, grabbed her by the throat, and lifted her from the ground. Those delicate shoes of hers dangled several inches from the floor. Her eyes widened, her face turned red. Jane tried to help. She beat against Sorin’s back, while insisting that he put her friend down. He seemed not to even realize she was there.

  Indikaiya controlled the impulse to assist the girls. If Sorin had wished to kill them, they’d be dead by now. He was a fearsome sight, strong and dangerous enough to scare even these women who had never known real danger.

  “I am not like the others, but I am not, nor have I ever been, nice. I hope you never have to face another of my kind, but if you do you
won’t stand a chance as you are.”

  Indikaiya stepped forward to reveal her presence. She was quite sure Sorin had been aware of her location the entire time they’d been separated. Had he heard her breathing as she’d stood back and watched him interact with the girls? Had he felt her, as she sometimes felt him?

  “Why do you care?” she asked.

  The truth — and he knew it as well as she did — was that no matter what kind of footwear these girls wore they did not have a chance against a monster of his kind. They were not fast enough, not strong enough. Soon enough, they would die.

  Sorin placed Carly down. The girl wobbled on unsteady feet, swayed as if she might faint, and then lurched toward her friend.

  “I don’t fucking know,” he said. “I shouldn’t. I never have before.”

  The girls both scurried to Indikaiya’s side. They had witnessed an aspect of Sorin’s character which had been hidden from them before. Finally, for the first time, they were scared.

  “He’s right, you know,” Indikaiya said, her eyes on Sorin’s face. A fine face it was, she had to admit. “You should be better prepared when you leave this place.”

  One of the girls sighed, then said, “I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

  Indikaiya turned to look down at her. “Who says you can’t be both?”

  * * *

  Nevada had not just made him remember the past, she’d cursed him. When he returned to the Potomac mansion he’d insist that she undo whatever she’d done to him.

  Shit, by the time he left this department store, Nevada would not be at the mansion. No one would. They’d be closer to the center of town, closer to the action and headquartered in a place Marie had never been.