“Because not all of us have the same venom. Only some of us can kill with it.”
“Correct. One more reason?” he said, and everyone stared at him blank-faced. He waited, hands out, grinning. And when no one said anything, his shoulders sunk and he said, “Come on, guys. Because it’s
gross
.”
The class laughed.
“So, these venom-tipped swords and venom-filled bullets, they can only do so much against vampires that are immune,” he continued, tucking the sword under his arm while he wrote
Venom Studies
on the board. “They will slow them down, but not stop them. And if we don’t stop them, it’s mighty hard to win a battle.”
“But we can arrest them while they’re struggling to regenerate, right, sir?”
“Yes,” he said without turning around. “But if we find ourselves at war, we wouldn’t have the capacity to house that many prisoners. We need to be sure we fill our pyres with bodies at the end of the day, not our cells with mouths to feed. Now—” He faced the class again. “Quick quiz: of the soldiers in this army, how many can kill a vampire with their venom?”
“Only five, sir,” a man said, with his hand up. “Sir Falcon, Sir Blade, Sir Quaid, Sir Ryder and yourself.”
“Correct. And Queen Ara—Amara,” he corrected. “What can
your
venom do, for those of you that have been turned?”
“Paralyse, sir,” another man said. “And that’s about it.”
“Paralyse vampires in a state of pure
agony
,” Mike added, pointing at the man. “Let’s not forget that.”
A few men talked amongst themselves for a moment or two before Mike called them all to attention again.
“Continuing on.” He wrote
Blood Army
on the board. “To protect his soldiers against the likes of Pure Bloods or Pure Created, Drake would need to drain one and feed it to his army repeatedly over the course of weeks, maybe even months. As far as we know, he doesn't have that luxury. So, if we were ever to face attack, his soldiers would only be immune, worst case, to Created Lilithian venom. Which means what?”
“We can still kill them with an Original or Pure-Created venom-tipped sword.”
“Right. But they won’t be paralysed by your venom if they’re immune. Which is another reason we don't use our teeth.” He put the sword down on the table behind the board. “Now, if worse came to worst and Drake did kidnap me or another Pure Created and he used our blood to shield his army, are we screwed, or is there still hope?”
“Still hope, sir,” a younger boy said. I realised then that it was Josh. He’d actually grown slightly since I made him human again, and he sounded so … different. Like his voice was breaking. “For the purpose of my explanation, I refer to the case of King David versus the Lilithian Princess at the castle Elysium.”
“Go on,” Mike prompted, clearly impressed.
“King David was immune to Pure Blood venom at the time but needed to stage his own death. When Queen Amara bit him, he was infused with her venom, which did nothing. But when he also bit down on a capsule full of Created Venom from Morgaine LeFay, the overconsumption was enough to paralyse but not kill him…”
While Josh explained the story in greater detail to the newbs, my mind wandered away, wondering where Morgana got that Created venom. She’d said it was hers, but that was impossible given that she was a Pure Blood. She must have had a minion at her disposal.
There were so many bits and pieces I hadn't yet explored because so much of it all was twisted up with so many lies, I hadn't even had time to process half of it. And it was little things like this that made me realise just how deep and diabolical her plan was. It also made me wonder how the hell she kept up with all the lies layered over lies. I felt exhaust just
trying
to figure it all out.
“So our most effective method against them if they're immune to Pure Blood venom is to bleed them out quickly in an attempt to weaken them, thus opening the door for overconsumption. Get this down.” Mike wrote a few things on the board that the class copied:
Step one: aim for vital organs or main arteries.
He drew a line from the word arteries to the other side of the board, which I knew meant they’d explore that in greater detail later.
S
tep two: sheath your weapon and switch to hand-to-hand combat to tire them. Remove their weapon first.
Step three: (If they’re still standing) take the vial from your belt and break it against a wound. Do not do this until their blood has drained significantly.
“If you do it too soon,” he said, facing the class, “it won’t take effect as quickly. The venom will bleed out of the wounds instead of penetrating their system.”
He turned to the board again and wrote
If all else fails, put a bullet in their eye or their mouth.
“Anyone know why we aim for those holes?”
“Because we can’t shoot through their bones—they’re unbreakable, even to bullets.”
“Right. But the flesh is not. You get a bullet through their eye and it’ll bounce around inside their head, making mash out of everything.” He clapped his hands once. “And that would be a win.”
He went on for a bit then, talking about our procedures and the ranks of soldiers, and why we still call the men in the Core
knights
, even though only few are knighted. Then went on to discuss why they wear the black uniforms. The only good reason I could think of for their attire was how sexy they all looked sitting there in them. For informal situations, most of the men wore the high collar folded down on one side, making a triangle over their chest, buttoning it into place so it sat snugly against them, revealing a small patch of their white undershirts. But for formal occasions, like dinner, social gatherings, or when on duty, it was buttoned up just under their throats like a turtleneck. I knew now what all the stripes and buttons and medals meant, and so knew accordingly who I needed to bow back to and who not to bother with. Mind you, I still, out of habit, bowed to everyone that bowed to me. It was just something that would take time getting used to. Mike and my four most beloved guards had disposed with all the bowing long ago, but they still very much held the tradition in high regard down here.
Watching Mike standing up there in his uniform, looking so mature and strong, made me think a bit about David—how he looked in his royal attire. He reminded me a lot of an English prince back in the sixteen hundreds, with the sleek fit of his black pants, a dark blue or black overcoat, and a sash that met his sword belt. Plus the mere fact that he always
did
wear a sword when on official business. He really did love his traditions, and I was starting to love that about all the people here at the manor. It was like living in a different world—one I’d only ever read about in books. I kinda wished it was appropriate for me to walk around in those amazing dresses women used to wear in the eighteen hundreds.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Mike said as he sat down beside me.
“Oh. Crap. When did you finish?” I looked up to a now-empty room.
“While you were off in la-la land.” His eyes shrunk as his smile grew. “You look pretty today.”
“Thanks.” I thumbed my yellow cotton top absently.
“You’re not cold?”
“No.” I shrugged. “My raging hormones keep me warm.”
“How ‘bout raging anger?” He nodded to the contract.
I cast a quick gaze across the room to check for Josh. He’d left with all the other men. “You think I’m mad at you?”
“You looked mad.”
“I was mad that you didn't tell me.”
“I wanted to get approval first.”
“Why?”
“So you wouldn't pity me if I didn’t.”
“Oh.”
He exhaled deeply toward the ground. “They didn’t approve it, did they?”
“No,” I said, and quickly added. “They left the decision up to me.”
“I thought they might do that,” he said with a nod.
“Is that such a bad thing?”
After a moment of complete silence, he looked right into my eyes and held my gaze. “It’ll mean leaving here.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want—I mean, I
won't
raise two boys here, Ar.” He motioned to the roof. “It’s no life for them. I wanna take them back to Oz, buy a house and give them the kind of childhood we had.”
I laid my hand on top of his, staring down at the adoption agreement, my eyes so thick with tears I couldn't see.
“Ar?”
“I just … need a moment.”
He removed his hand from under mine and sat back.
“I think it’s great, Mike,” I said after a while. “You, the boys. I think you’d make a great dad.”
“But?”
Even though I was a little ashamed of my tears, I faced him, letting him see how much this broke my heart to say. “No buts,” I said. “Do you have a pen?”
“Serious?” He sat forward, drawn upward by his own smile.
“Of course, Mike—” I started, but his whole body wrapped mine before I even finished what I was saying.
“Just…” He moved back a bit, keeping his heavy forearms on my shoulders. “I just need you to be happy for me.”
“I am.” I hugged into him again, holding on a little tighter now, knowing I'd be letting him go for good soon. “So, when do you think you’ll leave?”
“A few weeks.”
“God, it just feels so sudden.” I sat back and swiped a few curls off my face.
“And David knew—all this time?”
“Yeah. But I wanted to tell you,” he added defensively. “So don’t be mad at him, okay.”
“I’m not mad,” I said simply. “I’m totally shocked. But also not really.”
Mike laughed lightly.
“So … you’re gonna be a
single
dad?” I checked the first page of the contract discreetly to see if there was another name on there.
He nodded and shrugged.
“Guess so. What can I say, Ar? I love those boys. I’m not just gonna leave ’em behind because I’m unlucky in love.”
“I didn't mean it like that, Mike. It wasn't an attack. I just…” I wasn't sure what I meant by it actually. Okay, subject change.
“How do they feel about moving to another country?”
“
Well, they’re really excited. Neither boy had ever heard of Australia before.”
I frowned.
“It hadn’t been discovered when they were human.”
“Oh.”
I nodded.
“
They’re looking forward to a family and a new adventure.”
“So,
you’re not planning to recruit Joshie into the Core?”
“God no. Why’d you think that?”
“Just—” I nodded to the classroom set-up.
“Oh, no, he was just sitting in.”
“Right,” I said with relief before he even finished speaking. “And what about Max? How’re his memories?”
“He doesn’t remember ever being a vampire.” Mike shook his head, his eyes distant
. “He thinks he was in an accident that killed their parents and that he doesn't even remember them.”
“
And how will you handle that?”
“He
’ll need counselling. But he’ll be okay. He didn’t remember his parents before we erased his mind, so it’s something he’d have needed to be counselled on anyway.”
So far, it was all sounding satisfactory. My best friend had clearly not only grown up this last year but had, at some point, become the kind of man it took to be a father.
“And they’ll call you dad?”
His smile broadened.
“Yeah. I guess they will.”
“
And what about a wife? Will you ever get married?”
“
I don’t need a wife to raise two boys.”
“
Not just for them—for you.”
“Ara.”
He laughed, placing his big hand firmly on my shoulder. “No offence to the female population, but I have had
enough
of girls for one lifetime.”
I laughed.
“If a girl is
ever
anything more than a friend to me, she’s gonna have a lot to prove, and I won’t ever let anyone in as easily as I did with you and Em.” He tapped his chest. “I’m damaged goods now, Ar. I don’t
want
to love again.”
All I could do was hug him.
“I know you don’t need my approval, Mike—well, not informal approval—” We both laughed, looking at the approval I needed to give in ink. “But you have my blessing. I think it’s great that you’re finally making a life for yourself and—” I sat back. “I’ve seen you out there with those boys. I know you’re gonna spend the rest of your days happy just making them happy.”
“
Thanks, Ar.”
“Don
’t thank me. Just make me proud.”
“I will.”
I closed the application and sighed, mentally preparing myself to sign my best friend free of this monarchy. Free of me. “So what about a job? You’re not going back to the force, are you?”