by Janie Marie
Jane looked down. She should not be acting this way about David.
“Lighten up, brother. There’s nothing wrong with either of their reactions about each other.” Gareth squeezed her shoulder. “Darling, never let your feelings for him bring you down. You were destined to come into his life. Whatever, and, whenever, things happen between you, they are meant to.”
Gawain sighed. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but he’s right, Jane.”
Gareth smacked Gawain’s chest. Hard. “Of course I’m right.”
Jane chuckled, seeing Gawain glare at his brother. They both looked down at her and smiled. “I know you’re trying to help, but I just can’t think about him that way. I’m married. I’m a mom.” She winced and closed her eyes.
“Jane?” Gareth called softly.
She stopped walking and squeezed her eyes tighter, clearing all thoughts of her family.
“You all right, love?” Gawain asked.
She opened her eyes and looked up at the two brothers’ worried expressions. They shouldn’t worry over her. She did not want them to look at her like she was a ticking time-bomb.
Smiling brightly, she nodded. “I was just imagining how it’s going to be fighting zombies as a vampire.” They frowned and glanced at each other. “Can we fly or turn into bats?”
Gareth laughed and started pulling her along again. “I can feel the power inside you, but I do not think you can fly or turn into a bat. Come on. Let’s go meet the boys and get you suited up.”
“I get a suit?”
“Yes, love, you get a suit,” Gawain said, chuckling. “And a sword.”
“But I don’t know how to use a sword.”
“It’ll come to you,” said Gawain. “And you have me to train you.”
Gareth shook his head. “You’ll make a fool of yourself if you follow his instruction. Let me train you.”
“Not once have you beaten me in a fight, little brother.” Gawain laughed. “Did you hit your head on the jump? Shall I call Bed to check you over?”
Jane ignored their banter and looked in the kitchen as they rounded the corner. Three men were eating at the table.
One set down his fork and stood. “Finally,” he said, holding out his hand. “I was wondering when we would get to see your lovely face again. I am Tristan.”
She wanted to scream from excitement. He was one of her favorite knights of the Arthurian legend. “I’m Jane,” she said, feeling her cheeks heating up, “it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
She felt like a silly girl, but how could she not? These men had stepped out of her favorite legends, and they were smiling and joking with her, not to mention kissing her hand as if she were a maiden back in medieval times.
“We’re her favorite legends,” Gawain gloated.
Tristan’s dazzling blue eyes sparkled with amusement. “You have terrific taste in “myths”, then. Let me introduce you to my team. We will be accompanying you for your first watch. This is Bors.” He pointed to a rugged looking man with a shaved head.
Bors smiled at her, and she was instantly jealous of his forest-green eyes. “Pleasure to finally meet you.” His serious voice would’ve had her on guard, but his smiling face eased her worry, and she nodded back politely.
“And this is Geraint,” Tristan continued, pointing to a shorter man with black hair and green eyes.
“Hello, Jane,” said Geraint. “I am glad you are doing much better. We were all worried about you.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m feeling much better now.”
He smiled at her and returned to his meal, which made Jane realize something she’d not thought of. They were eating food!
Gawain snickered as he pulled her to the table. “We eat food as well, Jane. How do you think I keep all this muscle?” He flexed his arm, making the others laugh.
“How am I supposed to know what’s normal?”
“Are you not hungry?” Gawain asked.
“Ignore them,” Tristan offered her a plate of pancakes and eggs. “We eat food. A lot, actually. The more we eat, the less blood we tend to require. We, including you, are a bit of an exception among other immortals when it comes to blood consumption. You will need it but not to the point that you become crazed over it. But that will take you some time. It takes strong will and practice to control your thirst, especially in the beginning. But you’ll have David.”
She smiled softly and looked down at her plate.
Gawain cleared his throat, and a moment of silence passed before Tristan continued. “You will see how there are differences and truths to the myths once you come across Cursed and Damned.”
Jane looked up, relieved but sad that they were through talking about David. “All others are cursed, right?”
“Yes.” Tristan grinned over at Gawain, who was shoveling food in his mouth. “I take it Gawain gave you a crash course on your immortality?”
Gawain glared at him. “I am an excellent tutor. She understood fine. Isn’t that right, Jane?”
“For the most part,” she said.
Tristan chuckled. “She must be a genius.” The others laughed at Gawain’s frown. “Every immortal, besides ourselves, is cursed to darkness. There are two categories they fall into. Cursed is the general term for all immortals made or birthed on Earth, besides us, that is. Then there are Damned. They have either broken God’s law or they were created after God cursed all immortals. Some are not so bad, though.”
“How can you tell if one is considered Damned?”
“Their eyes,” said Tristan. “They’re black as the darkest pits in Hell.”
Jane swallowed. “No one else has black eyes?”
He frowned and looked around at the others. “Demons and Fallen?”
The group nodded.
“But some them have red eyes, too. I don’t know why,” said Gareth.
Gawain pointed his fork at her. “She has lovely eyes, doesn’t she?”
Jane blinked, thinking for a quick second they were black.
“They are lovely,” said Tristan. “I have never seen an immortal with hazel eyes.”
“Does that mean something’s wrong with me?” She was too afraid to tell them her eyes had turned black.
They all shook their heads as Gareth answered. “Not at all, darling. You are just unique.”
Jane pushed her eggs around with her fork. “Does our eye color ever change?”
Tristan nodded. “Our emotions tend to cause the color to lighten or darken, but never black. It will take time to learn how to control your emotions. Until then, you want to avoid humans. We look human, for the most part, but glowing eyes and fangs are kind of a giveaway. Your fangs are easier to hide than your eyes. You will likely only bare them during a fight or if you need to feed.”
“I see.”
“You will learn,” Tristan said. “We slip up, too. For example, we have all adjusted our accents and learn to speak in the same manner as the current generations do. But if we are really angry or emotional, you may hear our natural tongue slip out. It’s not a big deal. Unless someone finds an immortal feeding, they sort of dismiss when their conscience tells them to be cautious.”
“Oh, that’s interesting,” she said. “I did notice y’all sound more formal than people around here.” They all grinned. “What?”
Gareth chuckled. “She said y’all. Oh, I have missed interaction with Texans.”
She blushed. “I think other states say y’all.”
“They do,” Gareth said quickly. “But Texans are my favorite southern state. We think it’s hilarious that other states believe you all ride horses and carry pistols.”
Jane laughed. “They do! I never understood that either!” Feeling more at ease, she began eating. “What else should I know?”
It wasn’t until perhaps her fourth bite that she registered their silence. She looked up to see their mouths all hanging open. She paused and then swallowed. “Dudes, I’ve hardly been eating for three months. And I just slept for two days,
I think. I’m hungry.” And David’s not around to see me eat like a pig, she added silently.
“Did you just call us dudes?” Gawain asked as a few of them laughed.
Tristan began speaking before she could say anything. “Well, let’s see. Your light is different from ours.”
“I noticed,” she said, looking at the faint glow from her arms. “Are we like vampires in movies?”
Gawain laughed loudly as the other men chuckled. “We are not like any movie vampire. The glow we emit is very faint. It comes from the angels… We see it clearly because of our eyesight, but humans will only think you have flawless, radiant skin, which you do. Most immortals have a golden glow, but you are the first we’ve seen with a more silver shimmer. It’s quite lovely. It makes the gold color in your eyes stand out.”
She smiled, flattered by his compliment but worried upon hearing she was different again. “Thank you, but what does it mean?”
Tristan shrugged. “I don’t know. I am sure it’s nothing to worry over. It probably has something to do with David or Michael. You and David are the only immortals to come from Michael’s bloodline. It’s an envied honor.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“What else?” Her excitement grew as the worry faded.
“You are obviously noticing your heightened senses,” said Tristan. “Your hearing, sight, strength, and speed are all incredible. It will take time before you can control your speed and strength, but we are sturdy enough to handle your slip ups. A mortal would not be able to, though. And never forget you can sustain injury. Your speed and strength greatly reduce the chances of someone getting a hit in, but you can die if you lose enough blood or are dismembered. We heal very quickly, but we need blood to aid the process, especially for severe injuries. Your Other’s blood is the best if the injury is severe. Silver is always a worry, as well. It doesn’t restrain us unless it is in our system, but the reaction to it is significant. Should it enter your body, it would slow your ability to heal. The same goes for werewolves.”
Werewolves? They were probably the scariest of monsters to Jane. She wasn’t ready to find out more about them yet. She’d been fighting zombies for months. She didn’t want to imagine fighting a huge wolf.
“What about my heartbeat?” she asked. “I thought we were supposed to be like the undead or something.”
Tristan shook his head. “Well, you are not dead. Neither are we. That is why we have heartbeats. The stories you have heard about vampires being undead are true, but that only pertains to specific, Damned—it’s very complicated. However, to give you a simple explanation, there are some of us who have never died, and some who were changed as their heart stopped beating. When that happened, they truly lost their humanity. You will understand it more easily as time passes.”
Gawain waved his hand. “That’s not true. Dagonet, for example, died during his change.”
“Dagonet is a good soul,” Gareth chimed in. “His change was tragic, too.”
“And he had David to help him,” Gawain added.
Tristan looked her in the eye. “I am mistaken. There are some without heartbeats who are good. They are few in numbers, though. Most do not have the will to remain good.”
“How are they not more like zombies?”
“Their soul remains,” Gawain answered. “Their hearts are gone, but their soul remains. Stronger the soul, stronger the will to stay away from evil.”
“We’re not sure how these zombies came to exist,” Tristan added. “It’s definitely a virus. The virus kills the person, but their body continues to function. Unlike vampires, their souls have moved on.”
“And blood?” she asked. “How do we get it? I don’t think I can feed on a person.” She shook her head to push away thoughts of her children’s blood.
“There are many mortals loyal to Arthur. They act as blood donors for us. Before blood could be stored, we did have to feed on humans, but we”—he gestured to the men—“have not killed during our feedings. We either persuaded them to allow us to feed or we used our talents to subdue them.”
“You mean hypnotize them?”
Gareth laughed. “I can hypnotize another being. Some others can, as well. He means they seduced their victims to give without realizing they were being fed on.”
Jane looked at them, noticing them all avoiding eye contact with her. “Oh.” She didn’t want to imagine David seducing anyone to feed on. I’ll claw their eyes out.
Gawain coughed. “Donor blood is preferred now, but many prefer feeding from a live person. In our case, we mostly feed from our wives and feed them in return. An outside source is still necessary, though, so we take turns on who drinks donor blood, and who gets fed. For those that still like to feed on a living host, humans volunteer.”
“Hm.” Again, she found herself wondering who David fed from, but her empty plate got her sudden attention.
“It’s just your speed,” Gareth said, nodding toward her plate. “You will get used to it.”
She smiled, thankful that he didn’t think she was a pig. The others finished as well and started to rise.
Tristan took her empty plate. “I think it’s time for you to go with Gawain. You need to get geared up so you can begin your training.”
“Training?” She darted her eyes to Gawain.
“Of course,” said Gawain. “We are all eager to see what you are capable of. You’ve handled yourself well already. With David’s blood, you should be remarkable.”
He stood and took her hand before leading her to the garage where they had an arsenal. Two huge black crates were open, revealing a wide range of weapons and ammunition. Most of them she recognized from movies, but it was still an awe-inspiring sight.
Gawain took her to a table where a black vest and combat boots lay. “Here.” He handed her the boots and vest.
She took them and sat down on a nearby chair to put on her boots.
“We heard she was awake,” said another man’s voice.
Jane looked up as four men walked into the garage. They were all wearing black, dressed just as David had been the first time she saw him.
Gawain motioned for her to come. “Jane, this is Lamorak and his brother Percivale. Then you have my brother Gaheris and lastly, this is Galahad.” He pointed to each one.
She was practically bouncing on her feet. She still couldn’t believe these were the knights from the legends she adored.
Lamorak stepped forward. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Jane. We are extremely happy to have you be a part of the Table.” He grabbed her hand and kissed it.
“Table?” She looked at them confused.
Lamorak grinned. “King Arthur’s Round Table, of course. Some of your legends got it right. Once we return home, Arthur will knight you.”
Her eyes went wide. “What?”
Gawain pulled her from Lamorak and led her to one of the tables. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that right now. Arthur will explain more to you later. Right now, let’s get you ready.” He strapped a belt and holster to her waist and tightened it. Jane shook her head and focused on what he was doing—there was no way she could think about being knighted.
Gawain turned, picking up the M9 and put it in the holster. “You already know this one.” He grinned at her before turning back to the table to pick up a large sword. She stared at it in amazement. “Your sword.” He moved around her to sheath it. “Normally, these are worn at the waist, but we’ve altered them slightly. We run too fast for them to swing about. Since we are mainly doing long-distance combat, you will use your rifle. But with close range, your sword is your baby.” He then handed her an MK12.
Gareth moved to stand beside Gawain. “Let’s go see what you can do.”
David and Arthur walked through the bloody hallways until they found Kay and Bedivere standing in a living room.
“It is a few hours old,” Bedivere told them. “They were attacked, and this one lost a limb.” He gestured to a deform
ed hand lying in a puddle of black blood.
“Someone fought them,” Arthur commented, receiving a nod from both Bedivere and Kay.
“Someone skilled,” said Bedivere. “There are too many scents for the number of bodies. Some must have fled before he could finish them all.”
“This person was alone, Arthur,” Kay said. “He’s a wolf.”
“Who?” Arthur asked.
Bedivere hesitated. “We think it’s Lance.”
David paced the scene. “Impossible. He wouldn’t destroy his own. He has no need; they obey his every order. It had to be another wolf.”
“Take in the scent, David,” Kay said.
David felt foolish for not picking up on Lance’s scent sooner. He took a deeper breath. “There is something else. Some of the other scents—they are tainted with death.” He looked to Arthur.
“They are infected,” Arthur guessed. “How many?”
“Only two. The others, maybe a dozen or so, are fine.”
Bedivere lifted something. “We found harnesses. I’m not sure what to make of all this.”
Arthur took the muzzle and harness into his hands, turning them over with a frown on his face as he inspected it.
David tensed. “Jane… Do you think Lance knows about her? He was the only one who might have overheard Michael.”
David knew the others were in the dark about his and Jane’s predestined union, but he didn’t care what they learned now.
“I don’t think he knows about her,” said Arthur. “But they may feel the same pull toward her that we do. We need to get back.”
David did not have to be told twice. He was rushing to their camp, and it didn’t take him long to get there. He rounded a corner on the final street and came to a halt.
All his panic faded away. Jane was outside with the others, and she was laughing. No, she was giggling as though she was having fun with a group of friends and not standing in the middle of an apocalyptic setting with immortal knights.
She was watching his two immature friends as they wrestled each other on the ground. He didn’t care what they were fighting about—they were making her laugh. He was also thankful they at least took her down the street, away from her house.
