by Amy Corwin
This is a trap, it has to be. Why doesn’t Kethan realize the danger?
Heart thumping, she looked around again. On the grass beneath a huge, spreading oak tree, she glimpsed several broken branches. Her eyes lingered on the stoutest stick, and she nearly tripped. Her cold fingers rubbed the thick seams of her jeans as she eyed the potential weapon.
She glanced at the men. They’d forgotten her.
If she picked the stick up now, it would be obvious. But could she get back to it if she needed to? Her muscles tightened as she weighed her alternatives.
She was fast, but was she faster than a vampire?
“Quicksilver!” Kethan called as he turned a few yards ahead of her.
With a last, lingering glance at the stick, she joined him and nearly ran into Father Donatello as a deep inky pool in the mist resolved itself into a group of five short, bulky men. They stood in the shadows of a maple growing near a picnic table. One of them had pale, fine hair that gleamed despite the shadowy mist. Jason. Fighting to control the sizzle of fury heating her blood, she dragged her gaze away.
Then she noticed the slim figure seated at the table. A woman with long hair sat slumped over and resting her head on her folded arms. She didn’t move as they neared, however something about the slender shoulders seemed familiar.
“Kathy!” Quicksilver ran to the picnic table, her throat tight. The damp air seemed to thicken, and her chest constricted as she worked to force a painful breath. “Kathy!”
When the teenager didn’t lift her head, Quicksilver touched her shoulder. Her head lolled off her crossed arms and her body sagged, swaying toward the ground. Quicksilver caught her and braced Kathy’s limp back against her thighs. Hands shaking, she lifted the girl’s shoulders to prop her back up on the table and in doing so, she noticed a dark stain on her shoulder. She moved Kathy’s head. The side of the teenager’s throat was black with dried blood.
“You killed her!” She rounded on the cluster of vampires, her body shaking.
They faced her silently, watching her with crimsoned eyes. Her mind splintered, fracturing into jagged pieces as voices, some shrill with fear, others grinding in anger, echoed inside her.
Kill them! Kill them before they kill you!
Caught within the maelstrom, Allison’s faded ghost stirred, uneasy, crying, her heart too soft to survive, but then her voice rose, higher than the rest, quivering with pain.
This is your fault. If you hadn’t killed Tyler, Kathy might be alive, Allison whimpered. Death begets death. You’re drenched in blood, swimming in it. You’re the real evil, here.
Another wave of nausea arose, choking her. Her throat burned as she ran to a the maple shadowing the table and leaned against its trunk to void the contents of her stomach.
Allison’s quiet tears lashed her, laying her back bare.
No. She rubbed her face. This is not my fault. I tried to prevent it. She hadn’t killed Kathy, she’d wanted to save her. She’d done her best.
Your best isn’t good enough. It never was. Remember? Isn’t that why Mom and Dad left you with Granny?
With an effort, she straightened. She was Quicksilver, now, and the past was done. Over.
Quicksilver existed to protect others from the endless torment of the damned, the undead. And Kathy’s life wouldn’t be lost without a price. Vengeance would redress the wrongs done to her, and Quicksilver would ensure none escaped.
Hands clenched, she turned away from the dead girl sprawled behind her. Her mind exploded with rage, and she gazed up at the trees, seeing hundreds of stakes for the taking. Hundreds of weapons to kill them with.
This would all stop now.
She stretched upward, her fingers brushing the rough bark of a branch. Before she gripped it, Kethan stepped close. He flung an arm over her shoulder and forced her against his side in a lover-like embrace that was anything but loving.
“Mr. Hilliard.” Martyn Sutton pushed Jason forward, leaving the rest of the vampires to gather in a half-circle behind him. “This one disobeyed. He broke the truce.”
“She met me here!” Jason’s voice rose as he gestured toward the body. It’s not my fault. She asked for it! He didn’t say the words, but they hung in the air nonetheless like a poisonous gas.
The blatant attempt to shift the blame onto the unresisting shoulders of Kathy Sherman fed Quicksilver’s anger. Sickened, she elbowed Kethan in the stomach, unable to bear the earnest expression on Jason’s face. He didn’t release her, however. His grasp tightened.
“Liar!” she yelled at Jason as she twisted within the prison of Kethan’s grip. “You lie!”
Martyn ignored her, his gaze resting upon Kethan’s face. “I’ve given my word and kept it. I’ve not touched your woman.”
Only because I didn’t go home alone.
Jason smiled, looking angelic and pure with his aesthete’s face and silvery hair. His master would find an excuse for him, claim the young vampire had been forced into it by Quicksilver’s harassment. Or he’d get away with the murder because he claimed the girl had asked for it.
“I’ll take her with me,” Jason said. “In three days, she’ll join our clan.”
“She was a child, too young to understand or make this kind of decision.” Kethan bit off the words, clearly struggling to keep control over his emotions. She could feel the tension in his body. His stomach was taut and hard against her arm.
Martyn lifted his hand, palm toward Kethan. Then he glanced to his left at the vampire standing behind Jason. A glint of metal caught Quicksilver’s eyes, but the hazy mist rolling up from the river obscured the details.
Death begets death…. A small, hopeless voice wailed in her head as her muscles tightened. She clutched the sleeve of Kethan’s jacket as a curl of fog shrouded them, filling the air with gray moisture. The dampness clung to her hair and face and left her skin slick and chilled.
Foreboding filled the air as a brighter glint wavered in the darkness behind Jason. The mist parted briefly, tearing open the opaque silver veil to reveal a black silhouette pirouetting in a ghostly motion. The confident expression on Jason’s face faltered and then crumbled like a wailing baby’s. His jutting lips opened to scream, but no sound issued forth. He blinked. Then his head toppled off his shoulders. A second later, his body slumped to the ground.
A bright flash of fiery light played over his dark form, consuming it from the inside and glowing fitfully as reddish-gold streaks broke free of the skin only to submerge and reappear in another vulnerable location. She could smell the terrible, chalky odor of burning bone as the body gradually disintegrated into a pale mound of ash in the shape of a headless man.
“I kept my word,” Martyn repeated.
“Your word did not protect Kathy Sherman.” She stared at him as droplets of mist collected in her lashes and rolled over the curve of her cold cheek. “And they won’t bring her back. Nothing will.”
“Perhaps it is as you say, or perhaps not. But we offer this: we’ll take her with us, accept her into our clan.” Martyn’s brows rose in an open, questioning expressions as he gestured toward the girl. “We don’t exclude women like our previous master.”
“No.” Quicksilver took a step back in revulsion and wiped the dampness from her brow to clear her eyes. Her thundering pulse made her hand shake.
“She’ll rise in three days,” Martyn continued. “She must belong to a clan. We’re offering the girl a chance.”
“No. She’s not going to be a vampire,” Quicksilver said. Why doesn’t Kethan back me up? Say something!
Martyn eyed her, brows jutting in a frown as if he thought she were too obtuse to understand his offer. “She were young, too young to end her life.”
“Yes, she is—was, but her life has ended. Your people ended it. Despite Jason’s excuses, I doubt she had a choice and I doubt she wanted this. Now that she’s dead, she deserves to stay that way and find peace.” She jerked away from Kethan to stand alone. “I’ll see to it, if you can’t.”
Martyn shrugged and turned partially away, his round face showing disdain and profound disinterest in Kathy’s fate. He lost interest so fast it made Quicksilver wonder just how sincere his offer had been. Kathy meant nothing to him as a person who had value, an individual who had had dreams and a life ahead of her.
He’d made his offer to cement his bargain with Kethan, not because he felt any remorse over the girl’s fate or wish to bring some life back to her, no matter how limited. He stood before them, absolved of all responsibility.
The pulse throbbed in Quicksilver’s temple, stabbing in fast jolts through her eyes, traveling in light-speed through her optic nerve to the back of her neck. However, before her mind dissolved into fury, Father Donatello stepped forward. He halted in front of her and eyed Martyn, the lines on his face deeper and more haggard than ever. He appeared old, ancient. She gripped his arm. He needed to move, or he’d get hurt.
He shook his head and stayed where he was.
Her breath caught in her throat. The old priest wanted to protect her, thought he could prevent any violence. She understood that, but his gesture still unnerved her.
No one should die for her, no one, particularly not Father Donatello.
Martyn focused on her, his eyes glinting gold and then red within the black hollows formed by his creased brows. Tension tightened like ropes drawing them together as each of them hunched forward with muscles knotted in preparation to face the enemy.
“May we start again?” Father Donatello lifted both hands, palms up in a gesture of appeal. “We’ve all made mistakes and perhaps this is an opportunity to practice forgiveness….”
“Before we talk of forgiveness, there be the small matter of Tyler.” Martyn crossed his short, thick arms over his chest. “We took care of our mistake.”
“Quicksilver acted to protect Kathy Sherman from two vampires. Both vampires acted against your orders. She took care of one, you the other. Therefore it seems the matter is concluded, and we may move forward,” Kethan said, his voice firm.
“We have two dead.” Martyn’s gaze drifted in the direction of the picnic table.
Kethan nodded. “Yes. You had two disobedient underlings.”
“And you have a disobedient woman.”
“I’m not involved in this deal!” Quicksilver pushed past Father Donatello, sensing a spiraling increase in the hostility surrounding them. “I tried to prevent it.”
If only the priest would stay behind her, he’d be safe. Why had he come? He should have stayed away, where he’d be safe.
“She was unaware of the negotiations.” Kethan placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. “There won’t be any more interruptions if you guarantee the same.”
“You can’t believe him!” She whirled toward Kethan. “They must eat and so humans must die! We are nothing to them but food. They’ll attack others, maybe other children like Kathy! Girls who can’t protect themselves—” She broke off, horrified when her chest tightened with a repressed sob. She had started the evening concerned for the young people in Theresa’s care, only to realize the one she wanted—but always failed—to protect was herself.
As Martyn glided closer, his incisors overlapped his lower lip and pinched into the skin. His eyes were hidden by shadows, his expression feral and twisted. “We’ve an agreement, don’t we?”
“If you associate only with human adults who want and understand what you offer and if your numbers don’t increase,” Kethan said. “In return, we won’t interrupt your sleep during the day, or send hunters after your clan. You’ll remain hidden and safe from society as you’ve always been. That was the bargain.”
“We be two fewer! You reduce our numbers by drips and drabs until we’re gone. How can we agree?” Anger crackled through Martyn’s words.
Kethan waited a moment as if to control his own strong emotions, but his expression never lost its monumental calm. “You’ll agree because those are the terms.”
“We’ve lost two men!” Martyn’s implication was clear, at least to him. Two male vampires were worth more to him and his clan than one human girl.
Gripping her courage between two bone-white hands, Quicksilver moved in front of Kethan and confronted Martyn. He’d lost two vampires because he couldn’t control them. They were his responsibility, and she wasn’t ready to forgive or be forgiven.
“Yes, you lost two,” Kethan agreed in a neutral voice, one hand on her forearm. “However, negotiations will continue and on the original terms.”
Silence chained them together as the vampires and humans alike considered his words and the implications.
“If you control that she-devil, we agree. But if she wanders alone and chances to meet one of us….” Martyn’s words drifted away with soft menace.
“If I meet one of you, then you’ll lose another one.” She broke away from Kethan and stood alone on the damp grass with her back to the river. The water was the one thing she was sure of, for vampires hated it almost as much as they hated her.
“She didn’t mean that.” Father Donatello’s thin hand gestured toward her. “She’s frightened. We all are.”
“No more threats.” Kethan’s voice cut through the misty air. “Now, are we agreed?”
“Aye.” Martyn nodded, though his voice carried his reluctance like a burr caught in a dog’s fur.
“Tomorrow night then? Can I call to arrange a meeting place?” Father Donatello moved closer to the vampires, ushering them away from the picnic table.
Martyn refused to give way, however. He just watched Quicksilver.
As his silent fury mounted at the sight of her, alive and defiant, Kethan walked forward until he blocked her view of the vampires. She moved to the side when he turned his back on her, and she eyed the shaggy forms of the four vampires who’d remained in the Stygian darkness near the trees. Finally, Martyn walked away with shoulders stiffened. He stalked toward the parking lot, his men filtering through the shadows after him.
When they disappeared amongst the pines and oaks, Kethan faced Quicksilver. “Are you sure you want to make Kathy’s death permanent?”
No. She hesitated. But what can I do? Face her one night after she’s risen as a vampire? What then? Must I kill her again?
“Yes.” She walked to the body and placed a hand on the cold, stiff shoulder. Kathy had been so young, so naïve. So like me. Once.
Why couldn’t Kathy have seen it wasn’t love? Jason only wanted her blood and a way to make his own play for power within his clan. He wanted to demonstrate to his master, Martyn, that he could not be ordered around or controlled.
“She could still have a life—”
She swung around to face Kethan, her body taut. “A life? What kind of a life? Living at night, taking blood from humans to survive, killing them. She’s dead, just like the rest of them. They’re all dead inside—their souls rotting away—they can’t create anything. All they can do is stagnate and play power games. She’s better off dead than damned.”
“As long as there’s life, even half a life, there’s hope.”
“Hope of salvation? Don’t make me laugh.” She struggled for calm. Tears of anger and guilt stung her eyes.
It’s the best thing, isn’t it? To save her from damnation?
Catching her glance, Kethan eyed her strangely, as if he wanted to say something more, but in the end, he remained silent. His expression smoothed into an unreadable mask. He walked past her and hefted Kathy’s limp body onto his shoulders, then he led the way back across the parking lot in near silence as the mist muffled his footsteps.
Quicksilver followed, feeling empty as she watched Kathy’s long hair swing limply with each of Kethan’s steps. It all seemed so futile as she climbed wearily into the car and stared through the window at the gray bleakness. When she noticed her hands shaking in her lap, she shoved them between her thighs. Her head ached and in the cellar of her mind, Allison’s quiet, hopeless, weeping continued, unceasing and relentless, slowly driving her insane.
“Quicksilver, there’s something we need to discuss—” he said.
“No—no more discussions.”
He shook his head after laying Kathy’s body in the back seat and easing through the driver’s door. “Not about Kathy—”
“Then I don’t want to talk about it, whatever it is.” She sighed and leaned back in the seat, eyes closed.
“You need to understand my reasons—the importance of this.”
“No, I don’t,” she repeated patiently. “Not right now.”
After a long minute of silence, she glanced over at him. Both hands gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles and his mouth was compressed into a thin line. “I’m trying to explain about me, my past—”
“True confessions?” she asked in what she hoped was a light voice. She simply couldn’t handle it right now, not with Kathy lying so white and still behind her. “Please…tell me later. Can’t we just have peace for a little while? Silence?”
“I suppose that’s best,” he replied in a tone that was drenched with a “we both know this is not right” tone.
At some time in the near future, she expected him to treat her to the “I told you so” speech, but if she could defer whatever he had on his mind for a few hours or even the next fifteen minutes, she’d be grateful.
The atmosphere in the car felt as cold and silent as the night surrounding them as they drove to the only home Kathy had, the place Quicksilver still thought of as the Convent of the Weeping Madonna. “Convent” sounded better than “orphanage” to her; it sounded like a place someone might choose of their own free will, a refuge instead of a jail for young people with no place else to go.
Quicksilver barely waited for Kethan to part the car. She scrambled out and walked up the sidewalk, listening to the awkward sounds of Kethan picking up the girl’s body and following her.
