Warrior Rising

by Linda Winstead Jones

  “The word hero is not synonymous with perfection,” the Roman said wearily.

  “Neither word has ever been used to describe me.”

  There were worlds beyond worlds ahead of and behind him. Possibilities, wonder, redemption.

  Indikaiya was of this world. That was a definite advantage to this strange place, but there was another. If he could find a conduit to call him back, he could finish what he’d started.

  Another word that could not be used to describe him was quitter. As long as Marie lived, he had a purpose.

  Sorin’s stomach growled. He was hungry! Not for blood, but for food. Real food.

  “Here.” Hal tossed a pair of plain brown pants in Sorin’s direction. “We have much to discuss.”

  * * *

  It had been a long time since Nevada had cried. The world had been upside down, she’d been scared and furious and sad, but there had been no time for tears. Until now.

  She’d been crying off and on for four days, since Rurik had delivered the news that Sorin was dead. Not vampire dead, but dead dead. Gone, forever.

  “I am sorry,” Rurik said. He knew why she cried, even though days had passed since he’d delivered the news. They lay, side by side, on the floor of her room. He held her close; she rested her damp face against his chest. “If I could have saved him, I would have.”

  Sorin was dead. When Rurik had told her, Nevada had felt as if the rug had been pulled out from under her, as if she could not find her footing. He wasn’t supposed to die; his death had been startling in a world which had become one startling moment after another. She was a bit better now, but still she felt at a loss.

  Rurik, who was so straightforward in all aspects of his life, could not understand her distress. Sorin had been a vampire. He’d kidnapped Nevada and her family. There had been a time when Nevada would’ve cheered at the news that he was dead. Maybe she was upset because Sorin’s final death weakened the side of right in this damned war. Maybe she was upset because like it or not she had come to care for him.

  “If I’d seen Sorin I could’ve cast a protection spell around him,” Nevada said, not for the first time.

  “It is not your fault he would not join us here.”

  “No, but I could’ve sent a message. I could have insisted that he come here so I could…”

  Long before she finished the sentence, she grudgingly accepted the truth. That never would’ve worked. No one ordered Sorin to do anything. No wonder he had avoided headquarters all this time!

  Rurik didn’t tell her to stop sniffling, though she was pretty sure he was glad the tears had stopped. His hand settled in her hair. That hand delivered death to rebellious vampires each and every night. It was large and warm and capable. It was also gentle and kind, when gentleness was called for. “Sorin died a hero,” he said, as if he thought that would soothe her, somehow. “He could not save Chloe’s mother, but he saved Jimmy’s Kate and the small boy, Phillip.”

  Poor Phillip, he kept asking when his friend Sorin was coming back. No one wanted to tell him that Sorin wasn’t coming back, not ever. They talked around it, they told him Sorin was in a better place, but the child had a problem grasping the truth of it. He asked for his mother more often than he asked about Sorin, and they had no idea where she was. They didn’t know if Marie had killed the woman or was holding her somewhere. The kid was surprisingly unflustered by the lack of concrete answers to his questions.

  Nevada and Kate had been taking care of Phillip. It did help, to throw herself into whatever she could do to help, instead of looking back at those things she should’ve done. When Indie was around, her little dog Cupcake divided her time between the Warrior and the child, as if she were torn between them. Phillip did love that dog. Cupcake could ease Phillip’s mind like nothing else, when he started asking about his mother. And Sorin.

  Rurik cupped Nevada’s cheek and made her look up at him.

  She could not bring herself to tell him that she’d dreamed about Sorin last night. He was worried enough about her extreme response to Sorin’s death, had even asked once if she’d been in love with the vampire. Love, no, but there had been a connection she could not explain. She had no desire to try to explain now.

  The dream had been weird, but she’d been glad to see Sorin’s face, even if it wasn’t real. Eventually she’d forget the details of that face. The sound of his voice would be forgotten, too. It really had been a great voice.

  Yes, one day her memories would fade, but she wouldn’t forget anything today. She wouldn’t forget tomorrow, either.

  She looked hard at Rurik’s face and did her best to memorize every line, the sparkle in his eye, the way his dark hair fell. One day he would be gone, too. Another man to remember. Another man who would just be gone from her life.

  The world was so uncertain, she could not hold back. This was not a time to be shy or cautious.

  “I love you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Rural Virginia

  Emily Sheldon busied herself scrambling eggs on the stove. The bacon was done, and there was toast in progress. Her parents should be back any minute. They’d gone out searching for neighbors and more food. And weapons, she knew, even though they hadn’t specifically said so.

  It had been years since she’d prepared a meal, but breakfast for dinner was easy enough. She and her family had just been here, in this deserted cabin, for a couple of weeks. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the owners. There was a small lake nearby, so it was possible this was a vacation cabin, simply not in use at this time.

  But after all she’d seen, she had to wonder…

  After moving from one place to another daily since leaving D.C., this was a place they should be able to stay for a while. It was off the beaten path, isolated and defendable. Her parents were worried that Nevada wouldn’t find them here. Emily didn’t know how to explain it, but she didn’t share that worry. Her big sister would find them, when the time was right. Justin was just kind of lost, walking around in a daze and sleeping too much. Emily was more worried about him than she was about her parents.

  Justin slept on the couch, as darkness approached. None of them slept very well at night. Emily wasn’t sure there would ever be a day when she wasn’t afraid of the dark and the things that hid within it.

  Her brother cried out, sharp and loud. Emily grabbed the skillet of eggs and ran into the room where he’d been sleeping.

  There was no visible threat, no vampire, no monster who’d dared to come out before the sun set. There was just Justin, sitting up on the couch with his long hair in a tangle and his face flushed.

  “What’s wrong?” Emily asked.

  Justin looked up at her with haunted eyes. “Dream,” he said. “Bad dream.”

  She’d had her own share of bad dreams, especially since coming here, to this cabin. She didn’t want to talk about them.

  Justin, on the other hand… “I dreamed about him,” he said as he sat up. “That bastard who kidnapped us. The big blond vampire.”

  A chill walked up Emily’s spine. She’d been dreaming about Sorin the past couple of days. She hadn’t dared to say anything to anyone. “What was the dream like?”

  Justin caught her eye. “It was too damn real, like he was standing right in front of me.”

  Emily turned around and placed the skillet of cooling eggs on the small oak table where they’d been eating their meals. “Did he try to hurt you in this dream?”

  Justin shook his head.

  “Did he ask you for… anything?”

  Again, that shake of a mussed head. “No. He was trying to speak but I couldn’t hear him. Then he got mad and I woke up.”

  She had heard Sorin, in her dream.

  The sight of the big vampire with the long blond hair still gave her chills. Even in a dream, even when she knew he wasn’t real. She didn’t want to see his face, didn’t want to hear his voice. Emily sat beside Justin and took his hands in hers. “We will wish for him
not to bother us, not ever again. Not in dreams, not in memory.” She thought of blocking Sorin, of keeping him away, and it was if a gold shimmer surrounded both her and Justin. It was comforting, that shimmer. Her brother didn’t comment, so maybe he didn’t see what she saw. It was silly to think that a wish might keep away dreams, but at the same time… mind over matter was a thing, right?

  Justin relaxed. His expression changed in an instant. “I had a bad dream, but I don’t remember what it was about.”

  For a moment Emily was alarmed, and then she forgot, too.

  * * *

  Indikaiya focused entirely on the vampires before her. As she fought she mindlessly listened to the music. It was odd how at times the fighting and the music seemed to meld, as if they were one. As if they were connected. She loved the sensation of losing herself in the powerful songs, but when she was in battle she made sure one ear was free. She needed to hear everything, not just the music that seemed to drive her.

  She lost herself in the beat and the power, and took her enemies’ heads and their hearts with cold determination. She thought of Sorin with every well-placed swing of her blade.

  She should have stopped thinking about him by now. He had not been the only soldier lost in this war. Humans had died. Worse, some had been turned into those monsters they fought. In Indikaiya’s mind, that was the worst. Chloe had retained much of herself after the change, but she was an exception to the rule. So many of the baby vampires were beyond control. Beyond who they had once been.

  Indikaiya’s most recent regret had come when she’d had to take the life of a former police officer she had once fought alongside. He had become an enemy against his will. The final expression on his face had not been one of horror or regret, but of relief. Some of who he had been as a human had survived after all. Given time he, and some of the others, might’ve gained more control, become a vampire capable of choosing to fight for the humans instead of against them. Unfortunately, time was a luxury they did not possess.

  Warriors, too, had fallen. Many had been sent hurtling back into their world, either to wait or to be called to this fight again.

  It was a good thing they had not killed Nevada, when some had been thinking that would be the only way to reinstate the sanctuary spell. Her protection spells, delivered individually to humans and Warriors alike — including Indikaiya — did give them an edge.

  Almost two months Sorin had been gone. Two months that moved by so slowly Indikaiya sometimes felt as if time had stopped. One day followed another, followed another.

  She relished tonight’s battle. Embraced it. Lately there had been too many nights when she didn’t get to kill even a single vampire. Marie was changing her strategy. There were fewer battles in the open now, more sneak attacks on positions of power. Every night Marie and her army killed some humans while turning others. It seemed that for every vampire they killed, two more popped up to take its place. At this rate, the war would never end.

  Marie. The vampire who had started this war had rarely been seen since the battle at the Lincoln Memorial. She had not been seen at all by any of Indikaiya’s fellow soldiers. There were days when Indikaiya remembered the moment when Marie had taken Sorin’s heart. She remembered watching a man she had come to care for turn to ashes and fly away on a summer breeze. Scattered. Nothing. Gone. And she dreamed of sending Marie into nothingness. Summer breezes had passed, but she could hope to send the vampire queen off on an autumn wind.

  Indikaiya was somehow certain that Sorin had hurt Marie in that last battle, perhaps more than anyone realized. She had been weakened by the sun, as he had been, and that last cut had been deep.

  His death had been a great loss to their side, as well as a great loss for her. She missed him. Living in a large library teeming with other Warriors, humans, and a few vampires, she always felt alone. She should be accustomed to being alone by now. She had lived that way for most of her life as a Warrior.

  Beyond the army and those civilians who were determined to fight, few humans remained in the city. She didn’t blame them for getting out. There were reports now of open attacks in New York, Miami, and Atlanta, as Marie’s army tried to take the east coast from top to bottom.

  At times like this one, where the vampires seemed to come from all directions, Indikaiya wondered if this war would ever end.

  This small band of vamp rebels dispatched, she and Rurik walked side by side toward the vehicle which had transported them — along with Jimmy, Kevin, and Duncan — to this site where the vampires had been spotted. She checked out each soldier. Duncan was fine. He had a few wounds that would be healed by the time they got back to the library. Jimmy and Kevin had to be more careful. They had minor wounds that would need to be tended. Rurik had a gash on one arm, but it wasn’t serious.

  No blade had touched Indikaiya. Not since Sorin had gone.

  She looked back, spotted Cupcake sniffing at something on the ground, and called out a sharp, “Dog! Come!”

  She was ignored. Indikaiya gave a sigh and then called again, “Cupcake!”

  The dog responded to her name and trotted along to take her place at Indikaiya’s side. Rurik laughed, but he stopped when Indikaiya glared in his direction.

  Jimmy and Kevin walked just slightly ahead of the two Warriors and the dog. They had become great friends. Perhaps that had been inevitable. They were human warriors in an army of immortals. Their needs and vulnerabilities were unique among their fellow soldiers. They needed quite a lot of food to maintain their strength, and in the last month food had become an issue for the humans.

  “I’m starving,” Jimmy said, hitching his shoulder, adjusting his shotgun holster. “We’ll need to make a food run tomorrow. I think all we have left is Spam and Velveeta.” He made a low gagging noise.

  “Hey, now,” Kevin said with a touch of indignation. “Don’t diss Velveeta. Velveeta is the cheese food of the gods.”

  Jimmy did not argue. “What about Spam?”

  Kevin sighed. “Fry it up and cover it with barbecue sauce and it’s not too bad. But the Velveeta… yummmm.”

  “I want a steak,” Jimmy said. “A baked potato. Maybe a chocolate cake for dessert.”

  “You’re killing me…”

  Rurik slowed down and, with a hand on Indikaiya’s arm, indicated that she should fall back as well. She did. The humans’ conversation about food faded away. Just as well. They were making even her hungry! When the others were well ahead of them Rurik said, in a lowered voice, “Would you speak to Nevada?”

  Like she had time to chat with a human! Indikaiya was a soldier, as strong as any man. Stronger than some. She did not have time for hand-holding, commiseration, and — she shuddered, recalling some recent overheard conversations — girl talk.

  “Why? She and Kate have become friends. Whatever Nevada needs a female friend for, Kate will suffice.”

  Rurik did not take the suggestion. “Nevada has not slept the past three nights, because she keeps seeing and hearing Sorin. Even though it had been many weeks, she has not accepted his final death…”

  Indikaiya stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean, seeing and hearing him?”

  Rurik turned to face her. “Nevada is exhausted and grief-stricken, and that has led to these delusions.”

  Delusions? “Are you jealous that she cared for Sorin?”

  “Not at all. She loves me. What she feels for Sorin is something else entirely.”

  Something else. Sorin and the witch he had kidnapped had always shared a strange connection. Not love, not friendship, but…

  Indikaiya almost gasped, caught up in the thought that slammed into her.

  It was impossible. Sorin had been a vampire at the time of his death. She might as well not even mention the first, outrageous idea that had popped into her head. Rurik would think she had lost her mind. Instead of responding to his request, she changed the subject. “It is beyond foolish for you to become entangled with a human.”

  He responded without
hesitation. “My entanglement is no more foolish than yours.”

  Indikaiya instinctively stepped back and away from him. Shocked. Hurt. The pain she felt was intense and unexpected.

  Rurik still had his entanglement. Hers was no more.

  “My apologies.” He gave her an almost formal bow. “I see the pain in you. I would not wish it for you.”

  She started to argue that she had no pain, none at all, but why lie? Did others see it so clearly? The possibility annoyed her. That hurt was private, for her alone.

  Again, she changed the subject. “I will speak to Nevada when we return.”

  Rurik nodded. “I thank you. Perhaps sharing her grief with you will help her to move past it.”

  Indikaiya nodded her head, but she said nothing. Her mind spun with possibility, with wonder. With hope.

  She was not convinced that Nevada was suffering from grief.

  * * *

  Sorin was beyond frustrated. He had followed the instructions Hal had offered, he had watched his world — his old world — from this one, unable to help. Other Warriors came and went, though none lingered. Some of them were suspicious of him, of his presence in this sacred place. A Warrior who had once been a vampire was unprecedented.

  Time passed differently in the two worlds. It seemed as if he had been here for days, but there, where he wished and needed to be, weeks had passed. He was needed there. He had to get back.

  He saw this through the eyes of his descendent. His conduit. Nevada. The others, her brother and sister, had blocked him, somehow. Just as well. He needed to concentrate on one conduit, and Nevada was in the thick of things.

  Thanks to him.

  “There has to be a better way,” he grumbled. “Why do I have to be called? Why can’t I just go?”

  “Patience, brother,” Hal said. “It is as it has always been. Do you not realize that I would be there if I could?”

  His ability to watch, to see into the other world, was a gift he had picked up on quickly. He could turn it on and off at will. He rarely wished to turn it off. The more he knew, the more likely Nevada would be to realize what was going on and call him in.