Children of Blood (Kat Drummond Book 13)

by Nicholas Woode-Smith

  My heart stung as I saw the pain in Cindy’s eyes. Her mouth was open. She wanted to argue, but she saw the moisture in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to put her through the pain I felt.

  She didn’t get a chance to speak.

  “Cousin!” Themba boomed from the doorway. His slur was less pronounced now. “Don’t be a damn hypocrite. Mom taught you better than that! You can’t tell me to let go of the past and don’t do the same yourself! You’ve sacrificed far too much to wallow in self-pity. You’ve done too much! If you don’t deserve to be happy, nobody does! Take this woman, cos, and marry her! Have lots of babies. And be fucking happy.”

  His lip quivered, but he held on.

  “I want to see my little cos happy again before the end.”

  Themba turned and left, as suddenly as he had arrived.

  Cindy looked shocked, and just a little pleased. She turned to me, her expression now one of expectance.

  I couldn’t argue with her now.

  And I realised…I didn’t want to.

  Fuck it! I wanted to get married. Graham would have told me that I owed it to him to let people get drunk on my behalf. And more than that…I owed it to myself.

  I looked into the eyes of the woman I loved.

  We both deserved to be happy.

  “Next week,” I said.

  Cindy’s smile lit up the room and my heart like the rays of an angel. She almost squealed in excitement before I stopped her.

  “But we need to take precautions. Safety first.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Of course. Any place in mind? Please don’t say the Mosh-Pit.”

  “Definitely not! The Mosh-Pit is way too open. And they need it for business. No…I’m thinking we ask Trudie if we can use her compound. The reception area used to be a church, after all.”

  “Brilliant! I’ll send her a message right away.”

  “What about a minister?” I asked. Neither Cindy nor I were religious. But we still needed someone to marry us.

  “Conrad will do it,” Cindy said, matter of factly, as if it was obvious. “He is an ordained minister of three and a half religions that I know about. And I think he’d be pretty sad if we asked anyone else.”

  I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrow at that, but my concern at having a fallen angel turned used car salesman officiate at my wedding faded quickly.

  I was getting married to the greatest woman in the world. If this was a dream, perhaps I wanted to remain asleep.

  Chapter 6. Love

  ***KAT***

  Fleetwood Mac’s “You make Loving Fun” played over a stereo system as Crusaders and Heiligeslicht purifiers milled about the courtyard of Trudie’s compound. I had actually heard that the wedding was happening there from Trudie first. As soon as Cindy had asked her for use of the venue, she’d phoned me with the same excitement from when we were teenagers. There were more squeals involved than actual speaking.

  I had doubted the choice at first, but Trudie and Pranish had pulled out all the stops. They had repaired most of the damage from the Battle, cleaned up the old church with a new lick of white paint, and had even replaced the stained glass. This time with imagery of werewolves and Trudie looking regal. My friend was the very image of humility.

  The werewolves had been given only three days’ notice for the wedding.

  “I’ve got to say, Troodz, you should become a wedding planner.”

  She beamed, giving a toothy grin. Her eyes glowed gold. Not from any sort of anger or a full moon. Just sheer, undiluted excitement.

  “Don’t give her any ideas,” Pranish commented.

  “Hey,” I retorted, grinning with unhidden mischief. “I think Werewolf Weddings is a great brand! Should capitalise on it.”

  Trudie’s eyes lit up even more. A golden fire in her irises. Pranish groaned. He was happy for Guy and Cindy, at least that’s what Trudie told me, but he hated weddings. He had a big family of people he hated and had to attend, what he claimed, was a dozen weddings a year. Hosting more was the last thing he wanted.

  I looked over Pranish and Trudie’s shoulders as Trudie began arguing over the logo of her new wedding planning agency. Brett was standing with Guy, Krieg, Themba and some of the other male Crusaders. Kyong had his arm around Henri’s shoulders. He looked happy. And was sober! They all wore tuxedos, bulging at points where they wore armour underneath.

  Brett was tearful, as he regaled the group with their experiences from the previous night. They all laughed and repeated each other’s stories, even though they had all been there. Even Themba, even more morose after the Battle than he had been before, smiled every so often.

  The guys had taken Guy for his stag party last night. Apparently, it had been pretty bloody. The usual. But fun. I hadn’t seen Brett smile like that in ages, even with the tears.

  Everyone looked happy. Jane caught my eye. She winked and beamed with a smile that could only stem from vindication. This had been partly her idea. And she had been right. We needed this.

  The girls and I had taken Cindy out last night for a quieter evening. Heather, Trudie, Jane, the female Gibson twin, and three of Cindy’s colleagues from Heiligeslicht. We’d gone to a restaurant in Sea Point. Good food. A relaxing evening. It was nice. Even Heather smiled, occasionally. I was particularly impressed with the Gibson twin, who didn’t speak at all, but managed to participate in the discussion on the merits of banishment circles for exorcising demons by nodding and gesticulating at the right moments.

  Pranish had conceded that Trudie was going to start this wedding business now and was now arguing over the name. He wasn’t convinced that Werewolf Weddings was a good brand.

  Shows how much he knew!

  I looked around the congregation. Everyone looked happier than I’d seen them since the Battle. It was good. Calming.

  Just as much as the Crusaders needed this, so did I.

  Of course, the bride was absent from this display, as was traditional. But that didn’t mean I had to like it.

  “Should go check on her,” Treth offered.

  “Cindy is strong. I think Guy is the one who needs support,” I whispered back.

  “Oh, not for her. For me. I want to make sure she’s okay.”

  I rolled my eyes. But I actually appreciated the sentiment. I was also wanting to see my friend.

  I slunk into the church, making my way to the back where Cindy was getting ready. Guarding the door to the make-up room was a crimson haired elf.

  Ari had an expression like thunder on a face that should have been adorable. But I’d seen what she could do with those curved daggers and it was anything but cute.

  “How’s the bride?” I asked of the elf.

  “She’s alive,” Ari replied, as if giving a field report.

  “Ah, excellent.” I nodded, satisfied, perhaps trying a bit too hard. “I was worried for a second. Can’t be too careful.”

  I moved to enter the room, as Ari stepped in front of me.

  “You are not to see the bride.”

  I raised my eyebrow. Confused.

  Ari’s expression didn’t change.

  “The Alpha has restricted access to this room until the binding ritual begins. You are not to enter.”

  I was nonplussed, for just a second more, before I burst out laughing.

  “Oh, Trudie must have told you to stop the groom from seeing her.”

  “She did use that word…” It was subtle, but Ari began to blush. “But I don’t know what it meant, so I haven’t let anyone in. Well, except Cindy’s servant.”

  “Servant? You mean the maid of honour?”

  Ari nodded.

  Cindy had asked me to be her bridesmaid, but she had far older friends among her Heiligeslicht comrades. I insisted she give the honour to one of them. We wanted to keep things small, so only one bridesmaid for the ceremony.

  Truth be told, I wanted to relax as a simple attendant this wedding.

  “I am not the groom,” I explained. “G
uy is. Don’t let him in or we’ll all be cursed or something. But I can go in.”

  Ari’s eyes widened at the prospect of a curse. The sarcasm was lost on her.

  She stepped aside and I entered.

  Cindy faced away from the door, eyes glued to a mirror. I could not see her features, as her bridesmaid fussed over her. Pink and blue flashes erupted from Stephanie Naidoo’s fingertips, as she touched Cindy’s face and hair. Wherever Cindy’s bridesmaid touched her, make-up was refined and cleaned up as if a surgeon had delivered the strokes.

  My reluctance to be a bridesmaid or the maid of honour was not just laziness on my part. I had met Stephanie for the first-time last night. Pristine, black hair falling in cascades from her head, contrasting with the white tabard of Heiligeslicht. And everything about her was immaculate. She was a sorcerer, like Cindy. But, while Cindy had the more traditional purification affinity, Stephanie had a rarer talent. She could use her spark to create illusions so convincing and concrete, that they might as well have been reality.

  It was an odd ability to find in an association of demon hunters and healers. But Stephanie worked as a therapist, using her illusions to help victims with their traumas. There were quite a few people in the Crusaders she could help.

  “How could I compete with that?” I grinned, approaching my bride and bridesmaid. “Magnificent, Cins! Well done, Steph.”

  Stephanie smiled, that subtle, reserved smile that I’d found in so many purifiers of their Association.

  “You have many other talents, Last Light.”

  “Please, call me Kat,” I replied, as was tradition.

  I turned to Cindy.

  She was wearing a white, form fitting dress. Her arms were bare, exposing her scarified rune work. I liked that. Cindy’s scars were a sign of her sacrifice. Of her intelligence and power. Any sorcerer could be born with spark. She had used it to save the world. Often at the expense of herself. And that was far more attractive than smooth skin or hidden blemishes.

  “You look beautiful.”

  And that didn’t do it justice. And it wasn’t just the dress or the illusory make-up. It was her expression. The light in her eyes. It made Cindy not only look younger. It was a happiness that enhanced everything around it.

  Stephanie noticed something in Cindy’s expression, and quietly excused herself, leaving me in a silent room with the bride. Treth chose not to appear. He must have also seen what Stephanie had.

  “Thank you, Kat,” Cindy finally said, simply, but the words were charged with emotion. As if she had been building up to it all this time. Rehearsing the words, trying to find alternatives, and then realising that nothing else would work as well as those simple words.

  “What for?” I replied, feeling a bit awkward as Cindy stared up at me.

  She stood, gracefully, and put her arms around me. I felt tears drip through the illusions on her face. Another benefit of Stephanie’s skill. Illusions couldn’t run.

  “Oh, Cins! You don’t need to cry. Or thank me. That’s not what this day is for. This is a day to be happy!”

  Cindy half chuckled, half sobbed. “I am happy, Kat! Happier than I’ve ever been before. And my mind and body don’t know how to react to that. For the longest time, I didn’t think this was possible. I didn’t believe I deserved it. These scars…inside and out…they were my burden and my curse. And for all I’ve done, I would never find love.”

  “That’s nonsense!” I retorted, almost angry at my friend for thinking so little of herself. How could she? Cindy was my hero. My older sister. My friend! “You deserve every stitch of happiness that you can squeeze out of this existence. And I’ll cut anyone who says otherwise!”

  Cindy laugh-sobbed again.

  “I know, Kat. But…I’ve never told you about my childhood…”

  Cindy sat down, swivelling back towards the mirror, using it as a way to distance herself from her tale. I sat next to her, steeling myself.

  I didn’t know about Cindy’s childhood. I knew she had lost her old fiancé. That it had taken over a decade for her to move on – if that was even possible. But I also knew that stable households and happy upbringings didn’t create people like Cindy. She was forged in a different type of world.

  “When I was ten years old,” she began, quietly. “I watched my parents kill each other over a pack of cigarettes. I don’t remember being shocked about it. Or even sad. They had never shown an ounce of love for me. I could only be thankful that I was fed at all. When they died, I just remember numbness, nestled deep within my soul. I sat by their bodies for hours before someone found me, surrounded by garbage and squalor. The purifiers took me in, and that day I left the slums for the first time. I sniffed fresh air for the first time. It was as if I had woken from a bad dream. The smell of decay had gone. The darkness and chaos…gone. I saw light for the first time, and it awoke something inside of me. My spark.”

  She smiled, as if remembering something fondly, but it faded.

  “I relied on that spark. It became my best friend. And, even as I made new friends, and met new people, and strived against darkness and the filth of the world, it was still me against the world. For my own parents had never loved me, how could anyone else?”

  She shook her head, and her smile returned.

  “But I was proven wrong, again and again. First with Tom, but now with you, and Guy, and all the others.”

  She turned to me, and I saw tears through the illusion again.

  “Thank you, Kat, for giving me the courage to be loved. For bringing us together. I don’t think this would be possible without you.”

  I didn’t know what she meant. I did none of this. Cindy and Guy fell in love on their own. They’d met before me.

  “You changed them both,” Treth whispered, too quietly for even Cindy to hear.

  Yet, I didn’t want to take the credit for their love. Never.

  I wasn’t given time to reply or fully absorb Cindy’s words, as the door opened.

  Conrad Khoi entered, wearing a white and black pinstripe suit with a crimson tie. His expression was stuck between trepidation, rage, excitement and fear. But, as he saw me, and then Cindy, his eyes lit up.

  Doubt wilted. And, while I had found Conrad and Cindy’s relationship confusing before, I understood it now, as I saw the love for Cindy that Conrad held in his eyes. The love for a daughter.

  Cindy was wrong that her parents never loved her. Conrad was her father. Her real father. And he adored her so much he couldn’t understand it himself.

  Conrad’s expression faded in a flash. I had no delusions that the insight was from me alone. There must be an empath somewhere in the Vessel, as my skills at social observation had never been that great until I had become entwined with Treth. Well, another benefit of having a ghostly army residing inside my soul.

  “You aren’t supposed to see the bride yet, Kat!” Conrad exclaimed, grinning like a child.

  “That jokes old, Mr Khoi. Ari beat you to it.”

  Conrad looked shocked and a bit disappointed that the elf had beaten him to his own joke. I didn’t bother explaining that she hadn’t been joking.

  I stood up as Cindy did and gave her a long, tight hug. She whispered her thanks to me again. I didn’t know how to reply.

  I left the make-up room. Ari wasn’t at her post. She must have been called to the service. I exited the backrooms of the compound and came face to face with the assembling congregation. I knew every face. Almost all Crusaders. The others were purifiers from Heiligeslicht. Ari was standing guard by the door to the back. I inclined my head to her, and she nodded back. Always on duty! I had long since given up trying to get her to relax. Apparently, she relaxed readily enough with Senegal and their superhero shows. She’d seemed so laid back in New Sintar, though! Perhaps, the trauma of losing her people had changed her far more than we realised.

  Flanking the entrance to the church building were Kyong and Heather. Two of our elites to be the honour guard. It was more a ceremonial
posting, as everyone here was carrying a weapon. And, if they weren’t, then I’d be even more afraid of them!

  Trudie waved over to me from the front row. I walked past Guy and Brett, standing at the altar.

  I smiled at the groom, my friend, and in one of his rare bouts of openness, he smiled back.

  “Well done, Guy,” I said, genuinely. “I don’t need to tell you to treat her right. I know you will. And I know she could give you an haemorrhage if you don’t.”

  Guy nodded, seriously now. He took this as a mission. One he would complete more satisfactorily than he had ever done before.

  Brett stopped me to give me a quick kiss and then I sat next to Trudie, who gripped my arm tightly, tears already streaming down her face.

  “Prani, I want a black dress for our wedding,” she said. “Are you taking notes?”

  “Of course, honey,” he replied, rolling his eyes. But I caught a hint of a smile.

  Themba sat to my left. I saw moisture on his cheeks. That was good. Weeping for joy was better than a cold numbness. I still smelled the hint of alcohol on his breath coupled with sweat.

  “Cindy told me that you were the one who convinced Guy to go through with this,” I whispered.

  Themba was impassive. It seemed this trait ran through the family. He didn’t break his gaze on the altar and his cousin.

  “My cousin is a complicated man, Kat. But, in this, he is simple. He loves her and should be with her. I just told him to do what he already wanted to do.”

  “It’s a hard thing, sometimes, to do the right thing. Even if you want it,” Treth added, in another rare bout of sincere wisdom.

  The room hushed, suddenly. Everyone was seated. The sound of a piano and violin soon filled the room, as the Gibson twins, girl on violin and boy on piano, began to play the Bridal Chorus.

  “They learn so fast,” Trudie exclaimed, positively glowing. If the sin of pride was destructive, she’d be a nuclear bomb.

  In unison, Kyong and Heather opened the front doors, revealing Cindy in all her splendour, being led by Conrad, looking and being the most fatherly I’d ever seen him. Stephanie pulled up the rear, muttering a spell as rose petals fell from the ceiling.