Bloodlines Trilogy

by N. A. K. Baldron

  "Yes, sir."

  She set the pace and led, but Master Monroe was right on her heel the entire time. They ran for about five minutes to get their heart rate up before going into forms.

  "Your blocks aren't strong enough," he said. "You have to put your entire force into it and stop on a dime."

  He demonstrated the upper block to drive home the lesson.

  He had her practice kicks next. When she did a front roundhouse, he pointed out a small flaw with her not rotating her hip through the kick. He made her do two hundred kicks to the chest, put her foot down, and then kick to the head, on each leg. Her legs were lead bricks by the time the workout was over.

  "Want to spar?" he mocked.

  "No, sir," she bowed in reverence. "I need to sit down and stretch for a minute."

  "Your form has improved."

  "Thank you, sir."

  They sat down across from each other, and he pulled her arms forward to help her stretch deeper than she was capable of on her own.

  "How are things going with school?" he asked. "You've not been coming in as often."

  "I'll be able to come in more."

  "Good. What changed?"

  "I unenrolled yesterday."

  He let go of her arms and waited for her to sit up. "That's not good," he said. "You've been working to get into a good college ever since you started here. Why did you quit?"

  "Life is hectic right now."

  There was no way to lie to him, he knew her too well. Unenrolling had been such a relief—she hadn't given any consideration to a cover story to tell others. It wasn't anyone's business, but she hoped direct answers with Master Monroe would end the conversation.

  "Life is always hectic," he said. "That's why we stay focused on our goals and make schedules. If you need to cut down on your training, that's fine. We can push back your belt test a month or two, but school must come first."

  "I'm just not interested in school right now," she stretched her back out, "Many kids take a semester off, or even a full year between high school and college. I'm burned out and need a break."

  "I know things have been rough with your parents dying," he rested his hand on her ankle as comfort, "but you need to think of what they would want you to do."

  "Why does everyone keep telling me that? Like I didn't know them and know what they expected of me. It's my life, and I'll do what I want."

  Master Monroe stood up, "Training is done for today. I want you to leave and think about it. I don't want to see you in here for the rest of the week.

  "If you're not in school, then spend the time thinking about what you will do. Monday, I want you to come back and tell me your plan," he pointed to the exit. "Dismissed."

  Kandice took a deep breath to maintain control of her anger.

  She stood and bowed, "Yes sir."

  She didn't bother to change, just rushed to the locker room and grabbed her things. Once in the parking lot, she screamed at the top of her lungs to no one in particular.

  This was the last straw for people telling her to think of her mom and dad, and what they would want. They were her parents for fuck's sake—if anyone knew what they expected, it was her. There was no way to forget their wishes, with each passing day the pain of their absence grew deeper.

  She took ten deep breaths and counted them out. One, in. One, out. Two, in ...

  When her vision was clear, she put her helmet on and headed home. The wind blowing on her face felt like a volcano slapping her. There was a constant mix of sweat and tears in her eyes. The burning sensation made it difficult to concentrate on the road as she drove.

  Blake was standing in the kitchen and tried to talk to her, but she raised her hand. He understood and stopped. She was in no shape to talk. She slammed her bedroom door and flopped onto her bed without kicking her shoes off.

  Once she calmed down Kandice tried to think of a good excuse for Master Monroe, but nothing came to mind. The truth was out, he needed to understand it was her choice. On the other hand, she needed the training if she stood any chance of winning fights.

  Unless Lance will teach me to shift.

  She sent Lance a text.

  Kandice: Can you talk? I need help.

  A minute later,

  Lance: Are you OK? What do you need?

  Kandice: It's not an emergency. I'm fine, just need advice.

  Lance: Sure, Slava has some new information. He'll be back around 3. Is then good?

  Kandice: Yes. See you then.

  The weight came off her shoulders. Lance possessed the ability to calm her down by offering logical ideas. Kandice returned to the kitchen where Blake was drinking iced tea and eating pizza.

  She sat at the bar, "Sorry. I wasn't mad at you."

  "I didn't think you were," he said between bites. "Aren't you home early? School going bad?"

  "I dropped out," she said.

  "Why?" he asked, nearly choking on his tea.

  "The people suck, and I'm too busy. It's just for this semester while I work with Lance. I want them to train me to fight."

  "What about Master Monroe?"

  "Not like that," she said. "They don't fight like us."

  She took a moment to gather herself, "They can morph their body into something else. They're oborotens, or shifters."

  Blake didn't say anything.

  "I don't understand it fully, but Lance is able to turn into something similar to an Aether Walker when he fights them. I need to learn how. Otherwise I'll never be able to take on the deadly ones."

  He took another bite, chewed, and swallowed, "That seems legit. Is there anything I can do to help?"

  "I'm meeting them at three. Slava has new information. Do you want to come?"

  "Of course," Blake said. "I've been researching online, but there's nothing out there."

  "I searched for over a year, and all I found was a single forum."

  "Can you send me the link?" he asked.

  Kandice pulled out her phone and emailed it to Blake.

  "Thanks," he said. "I'll check this out and see what I can find. Maybe the IP address will tell me more, like where the server is. Might be something."

  "You're good with computers," Kandice said more to herself than Blake. "Do you think you could hack a security system?"

  "I don't know if I could hack it," he half mocked. "but it might be possible to disable it. I would just need to know who made the system, and who monitors it. You can find almost any schematic online. I've seen the blueprints for building a nuke."

  Kandice laughed, "You should be the one in college."

  "I'm like you," he joined her laugh, "taking the semester off."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Tuesday, September 6th

  KANDICE AND BLAKE PARKED THEIR MOPEDS on the street in front of their old house. Only one car sat in the driveway.

  "It's strange being back here," Blake said as they walked to the front door.

  "Don't speak before I introduce you," Kandice knocked on the front door.

  When Lance opened the door he stared at Blake, "Who is this?"

  "Lance, this is my brother Blake, he sees Them too."

  "Oh," Lance extended his hand and shook Blake's. "It's great to meet you. Please come in."

  Lance led them into the living room and waited for them to sit before sitting himself. "Slava is still out, but he should be back any minute."

  "Okay," Kandice and Blake said together.

  Blake looked around the living room and stopped on the small TV, "You guys keeping up with any shows?"

  "We needed it for surveillance," Lance said. "We don't watch much television. I like to watch movies in the theater sometimes, but Slava views all American film as propaganda."

  Kandice laughed, while Blake gave Lance an odd expression of disbelief. The customary bottle of vodka and three glasses sat on the coffee table. Lance poured three small servings and offered Blake and Kandice each a glass, before downing his own in one gulp. Blake and Kandice only took
a sip before setting their glasses down.

  "You needed advice?" Lance asked.

  "Yes," Kandice said. "I've dropped out of school, and the news upset my Taekwondo instructor. I'm not allowed to go back until next week, and he wants a full explanation for why I dropped out. He's not satisfied with my life being busy."

  "I see," Lance said.

  No one spoke while Lance looked out the window, lost in thought. He hadn't looked so serious since the first time they had sat in this room together. It was hard to believe it had only been a few weeks since they met. He was becoming Kandice's close and trusted friend.

  Fighting Aether Walkers must be one of those things that can't help but unite people.

  Once the silence grew into an awkward-tension, Blake spoke up, "Why not just tell him you're helping me?"

  "What?" Kandice asked.

  "Just tell him I'm going through another rough patch. Since I had to quit when I went to the hospital, I think he would understand."

  "I never thought of that."

  "Why were you in the hospital?" Lance asked. "If it's not rude to ask."

  Kandice froze. Her heart raced with fear—Blake had never spoken of the hospital to anyone, including her. Blake seemed to think for a moment, then explained what happened. He told Lance the story of their mom's death, and the doctors hospitalizing him for fear he was a danger to himself. When he spoke about it, his emotionless tone surprised Kandice. He stated the facts like they happened to someone else.

  Blake was different—he was becoming stronger and more confident—much like their father was before their mom died. This change grew every day since he discovered her ability to see the Aether Walkers. Regret gnawed at her gut for not telling him sooner—her attempts to protect him had backfired—but this showed it wasn't too late for him to get his life together.

  Lance let Blake finish talking before speaking, "I'm surprised they released you. Most of us who go into hospitals never come out. In Russia, they use the insane as test subjects for awful experiments."

  "Aside from the pills, I was fine. I convinced myself it was a dream. I repeated the lie until I believed it, and then the doctors did, too."

  "Well, I'm glad you're out," Lance said.

  "Me too," Kandice said, and gave Blake a hug.

  He blushed a little. "Sis, don't get all soft on me."

  As they waited for Slava, their conversation turned to Austin and what Lance thought of it as an outsider.

  "I've seen some of the sights," Lance said, "but I'd like to know what the locals do."

  Blake was a homebody, so the question rest on Kandice.

  "I've always enjoyed the literature museum on the south side of UT's campus," she said. "I could show you sometime."

  "It's a date."

  Did he mean date like they would go, or date like a romantic date?

  It would be far too awkward to ask for clarification so instead she sat quietly praying Blake wouldn't make a smartass comment.

  Slava stumbled in the front door with two large duffel bags on one arm and was bleeding from the other.

  Lance ran to the kitchen, "What happened?"

  "There were more than I expected," Slava said.

  Lance came out from around the bar holding a first-aid kit. He cut off Slava's shirt at the shoulder—his arm had a long gash from the middle of his biceps down to his elbow. Kandice could see the white of bone as Lance poured vodka on the wound and used a towel to wipe away blood. Slava hissed in pain, but refused to scream.

  Blake turned away.

  "Can I help?" Kandice asked.

  "Go around the corner," Lance said. "Next to the stairs is a bathroom. Get me all the towels."

  Kandice knew where the bathroom was and grabbed the hand towels hanging up, and the towels under the sink. When she came back, Lance was pouring a packet of white powder into Slava's arm. He took a towel and dabbed at the arm to gather the excess blood from the wound. A pool of blood stained the carpet. Lance dabbed a hand towel in vodka and placed it against the wound. He swapped the towel for fresh gauze and bandaged the arm.

  "Hold this," Lance gestured to Slava's makeshift bandage. "Keep pressure on the wound."

  Lance took another bath towel and ran out of the house. Kandice kept pressure on the wound, pushing her hands together with Slava's arm between them. He winced in pain, but Kandice didn't loosen her grip.

  This can't be happening again!

  Lance burst through the front door, "Blake, upstairs bathroom. Bring me more towels and the bleach under the sink!"

  Blake didn't move. Kandice looked behind her and saw he was staring out the window. "Blake!"

  "What?" he asked.

  "Upstairs. Get towels and bleach, under the sink."

  "Okay."

  His face was as white as the towels, but he moved his feet and stumbled up the stairs. A few moments later, he returned with the ordered supplies. Lance took the towels and pulled Blake with him out the door.

  Slava began to mutter in Russian—eyes glazed over.

  Kandice didn't know what to do. This was only the second time someone had bled this bad in front of her. Taking him to the hospital was not an option.

  It'll be okay. It has to be okay.

  Her mind kept trying to go there, to be back in that car with her mother.

  Kandice stopped herself, refusing to lose control. She was in control of her thoughts. She swallowed the weakness pushing its way up from her stomach. Slava's life was in her hands, and he needed her to be calm.

  Lance and Blake returned after what seemed like hours, but was actually only a few minutes. Blake darted for the bathroom and vomited. Lance kneeled next to her and took Slava's arm.

  "Thank you," he said. "I don't know-"

  "It's okay," Kandice said. "What else can I do?"

  Lance paused for a moment before answering.

  "That room there," he nodded towards her parent's old room, next to the living room. "Find the large wooden trunk. Inside that will be a black wooden box. I need it."

  The trunk overflowed with crap, and it forced her to dig to find the black box. Everything inside caught her interest, but she stayed focused and moved survival gear and electronics out of the way with care. The box was small, maybe half the size of a shoe-box and smelled amazing.

  What kind of wood is this?

  After handing it to Lance, she took over applying pressure to Slava's arm.

  "He lost a lot of blood," Lance said. "I'm surprised he made it home."

  Lance pulled out a silver metal sheet with symbols stamped all over it. The squiggles resembled the artwork of a three-year-old. He pulled back the bandage and placed the metal directly against the wound before re-bandaging the arm.

  "I need to check on Blake," Kandice said.

  "Go," Lance said. "We've done all we can."

  Blake was resting his head on the toilet when Kandice turned the corner.

  "Are you okay?" she asked.

  "Been better," he tried to laugh, but instead broke down into a coughing fit.

  If he can joke, he's fine.

  The day had been a test for both of their nerves.

  Did he think of mom?

  "Can I get you anything?" she asked.

  "I wouldn't say no to vodka."

  Kandice laughed and brought him a glass, which he finished in four consecutive swallows before putting it down.

  "Burns so good," he said.

  Kandice smiled, "Are you going to be okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm just going to sit here for a minute. Feel light headed."

  "Did you think of mom too?"

  He nodded and looked to the floor.

  Kandice left him alone in the bathroom and checked back in with Lance. Slava laid with his eyes closed, but he continued to mutter in Russian. Lance whispered to him in response.

  "What is he saying?" she asked.

  "Nonsense, it's gibberish. I keep telling him he'll be fine, just to hold on and think of my mother."

&nbs
p; She sat down next to Lance and placed her arm around his shoulders. Lance kept a firm grip on Slava's arm, but rested his head against her shoulder.

  Kandice and Blake waited with Lance as the hours moved by. They spoke little and took turns keeping pressure on Slava's arm. Every two hours, like clockwork, Lance would change the inner bandage and flip the silver sheet over.

  Just past 10 PM, Lance changed the bandage and removed the silver sheet.

  "The wound is healing," he said, as he wrapped a fresh bandage. "Can you help me move him into the bed?"

  They both helped lift Slava off the sofa and through the door. They lowered him carefully onto the bed. Lance checked to make sure there was no blood running out and the bandage still looked white.

  "Thank you," he said. "He needs sleep. He should be out for the whole night."

  "Is there anything else we can do?" Kandice asked.

  "No. Thank you though. Both of you," he clapped Blake on the shoulder.

  They returned to the couch, and Lance poured a large glass of vodka for himself, but he didn't drink it.

  "I think I'll go to bed, too," he said. "I'm tired, and I'll need to check on him throughout the night."

  "Of course," Kandice said.

  They all stood up, and Lance walked Blake and Kandice to the door.

  "I'll call you tomorrow," Kandice said.

  "Okay," Lance said.

  "I'm sorry," Blake said. "I hope he gets better soon."

  "Thank you. I'm sure he'll be fine in a couple days. The seal I put on him will help his wound to heal faster than normal."

  Kandice gave Lance a hug before they left.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Wednesday, September 7th

  KANDICE SENT LANCE SEVERAL TEXTS throughout the day, but he told her nothing of substance. He wanted to stop by to see her later and Slava continued to heal. Vague responses were a pet peeve of hers, but this was worse because of their involvement in Slava's recovery. Lance was giving her the cold shoulder when he should have been leaning on them for support. After thinking through the night for the millionth time, there wasn't anything that stood out to explain the silence. Blake and her supported him throughout the ordeal, he should be okay with updating them.

  To her surprise, Blake woke up early in the morning and began his usual typing away on the computer. When she mentioned Lances silence to Blake, he told her to have patience. Most likely, Lance just wanted to focus on getting Slava better, and he would call when they were ready. It seemed plausible—it was just annoying to not have constant updates.