Warrior Rising (7 page)

“You sound as if that possibility doesn’t concern you,” Indikaiya said, incensed that he could offer that vile suggestion so casually.

He looked down at her. “It doesn’t concern me.”

“You have no regrets?” About who he was, or about the power-hungry vampire with whom he had once aligned himself?

“No regrets. What’s the point?” He glanced one way, then another. “I have not entered either of the houses alongside this one, so…”

She just wanted to get this over with! “Which of the two is closest?”

“The house to the east.”

They stepped through the front door, into the night, and Indikaiya turned to the east. In this neighborhood, none of the ridiculously enormous homes were in close proximity. In some eras they would be called castles, with wrought iron gates and massive lawns and room enough inside those gates for a small town or a very large extended family.

Sorin could be on the doorstep of any of the nearby houses in a matter of moments, but she did not have his gift of speed, and she wanted to witness his attempt to enter the house. She wanted to be able to verify the reintroduction of the sanctuary spell with her own eyes.

Maybe she didn’t trust him completely, after all.

Still coming down from the high of fighting Marie’s newest soldiers, Sorin remained on alert. Was he ever not on alert? No. Never. He had spent his long life listening for the next attacker, searching for the next meal, assuring that no matter who came at him, for whatever reason, he was prepared.

He was hungry. The fight had drained him, had roused his appetite. Not that there was anyone in the vicinity who would serve as a proper blood donor. No Warrior would offer a tempting vein to him, and he did not dare to feed from one of the few humans who had decided to remain with the fight. It would be foolish to weaken the soldiers from his own army.

He had been hungry before. He’d been much hungrier than this. If nothing else, he had the gift of control.

His mind turned to more immediate matters. If Nevada had managed to recast the spell, then her job here was done. He would take her far away from this Potomac mansion, remove her from this prison to which he had delivered her, years earlier. He would take her… where? Was there any safe place in the world? Who could know? It would be safer for all humans once the spell had been put back into place. He could locate Nevada’s family, reunite them, and allow her to resume a somewhat normal life.

No. She had broken the spell once before, and too many of his kind knew it. They would find her, no matter where she tried to hide. They would force her to break the spell again, and then they would kill her. Or worse, turn her.

A powerful vampire witch. The thought gave him the shivers, and he did not shiver easily.

There were pockets of this city which had already been overrun by vampires. This neighborhood, however, was safer than most. No vamp in his right mind would want to be in the vicinity of so many Warriors. Not yet, anyway. Soon enough Luca’s army would be gone from this place, and what had once been Marie’s headquarters and then their own would be yet another empty house on yet another deserted street.

The space between the mansion that had become headquarters and the vacant one next door was dark and eerily quiet. No dogs barked. No night birds chirped.

“Sheathe your sword,” he said in a lowered voice.

“Why should I?” Indikaiya asked, testy. Annoyed. That seemed to be her normal state.

“Unless you plan to take my head, you have no need of it at this moment.”

Grudgingly, she did as he asked. A fraction of a second later, he snaked an arm around her and leapt up and forward, soaring toward their destination.

She didn’t even have time to curse before he landed on the dark doorstep.

She took a step back, drew and raised her sword and pointed it at him in a threatening manner. The tip of that sword was no more than half a foot from his nose. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Sorin grinned. “It was fun though, right? Admit it. You liked being airborne, at least a little.”

“I did not like it at all.” Her voice was clear and crisp, and without emotion. The expression on her face was one of determination. She did not give in. She did not give up. “Swear to me, never again.”

“Not unless you ask.” Sorin said as Indikaiya lowered her sword. He turned his back to her and reached for the knob on the massive front door, attempting to turn it. He could not. He threw his weight against that door, but bounced off an invisible barrier. Unexpected relief rushed through him. She’d done it. Nevada had succeeded.

He twisted a bit to look down at Indikaiya. “You try, just to be sure.”

She reached out and turned the doorknob. Apparently the door he had not been able to open was unlocked. She stepped inside, easy as you please. Any Warrior or human could have done the same. From beyond the doorway, from where she stood in an unlit, massive foyer, she said, “Two steps, vampire, and you’ll be inside.”

He tried, but could not.

“Come in, Sorin,” she said, backing away from the doorway, blending almost completely into the shadows.

He tried, but again was stopped by a force beyond his control. It felt very much like trying to move toward Nevada when she’d cast a small protection spell around herself. It reminded him of the early days, when he had not known the rules. How many homes had he attempted to enter uninvited before he’d figured out it was impossible? It had been years longer before he’d known why. Sorin’s maker had been less than attentive, after he'd been turned. It was the reason he had always taken the time to educate his own made children.

There had not been many of them, but there had been a few.

“You do not have permission to grant access to this dwelling,” he said. “It does not belong to you.”

Indikaiya was smiling as she returned to the front porch. She had a wide smile, true and unfettered by regret. He had not known until this moment that she was capable of producing such an expression.

“It worked,” she said. “Do you want to tell your little witch that she was successful, or shall I?”

With this task done, Nevada would want to leave. She’d think herself free. Hadn’t he just been considering taking her away, hiding her somewhere? Anywhere? He could not let her go, not yet. Not now. First he had to find a way to protect her as she had found a way to protect the homes of humans around the world.

Sorin had never cared about protecting anyone before, least of all a human witch who had just recast the spell which would keep him from entering a home uninvited.

She’d ruined him.

“You may have the honor, dear,” he said. “I have vampires to kill.”

With that he stepped onto the long-neglected lawn and shot up into the sky, away from the Warrior, the witch and the memories.

“It worked,” Indie said simply. “Sorin was unable to enter the house.”

The sanctuary spell was back in place. Nevada felt as if her knees were going to buckle, her relief was so great. Tears stung her eyes, and she clenched her fists. She gasped, a sound wrenched from so deep inside her it sounded suspiciously like a sob.

Indie, looking concerned, took a couple of steps into the room. “You have gone even paler than usual. Are you well?”

Well? No, not really. Nevada had thought for some time now that she might never be
well
again. “I’m fine. It’s just… I’m relieved, that’s all.” She didn’t know how many people had died in the past three days. Three days or four? She’d lost all track of time, as she’d thrown herself into her work. God, she didn’t want to know how many had died.

“You must rest now,” Indie insisted.

Rest, yes, that would be a good idea. A sudden worry erased all thoughts of taking a step back from her work. “Do you think he would lie? Sorin, would he pretend that the spell was back in place?” Was he truly on their side?

Judging by the expression on Indie’s face, she hadn’t even thought of that possibility. Maybe for a Warrior a lie of that magnitude was unthinkable. After a short pause she answered. “No.”

“He’s lied before,” Nevada argued. Yes, in the past Sorin had lied skillfully and often.

Indie seemed more confident than before. “Not this time.”

“He’s one of us now, isn’t he?”

Indie nodded.

In spite of her instinctive worry, Nevada believed that to be true. Sorin could have killed her. In the past few days he’d had several opportunities. He had not. In fact, he had protected her. She pretty much had to believe him.

“We’ll know soon enough if the spell took effect everywhere.” The tears were gone. Nevada’s knees felt steady again. “I hope the royal bitch is royally pissed.” Tired as she was, she managed a small smile. “I hope she knows I’m the one who did this to her.”

“Marie is the bitch?” Indie asked. For some reason, the b-word sounded odd coming out of the Warrior’s mouth.

“Yep. Big time.” Nevada asked the question she’d wanted to ask since she’d learned that the sanctuary spell was back in place. “Where’s Rurik? Does he know?”

“Rurik is fighting, as I will soon be. Before I leave I will have someone call the human Jimmy to share the news.” Indie frowned, as if she wasn’t quite sure that was the right thing to do. Jimmy was very young, but he was a leader among them. He would be a leader at any age.
In
any age. “The cell phones you humans carry are convenient, at times, but they are also annoying. Jimmy’s lady friend keeps calling. She wants him to come home to Texas, or else she wants to join him here. He is frantic to keep her away.”

Understandable. Nevada didn’t want her family anywhere near this place, not ever again. Was it even possible to keep loved ones safe in a world like this one?

“It’s been forever since I had a cell phone,” Nevada said. In a way she’d love to have one now. Not for phone calls. Who would she call? It wasn’t like her family had their phones with them. She hadn’t seen any of her friends for years. They probably all thought she was dead. But for the Internet, for news, for music, for reaching out to the rest of the world… a cell phone would be nice.

“Sleep,” Indie said. “Sleep, and then eat, and then get back to work.”

Ah, yes, that other thing. “I will.” Nevada was sure she’d sleep deeply, and she hoped with everything she had that she didn’t dream. There was no telling what she’d dream about. Nothing pleasant, she supposed.

Indie nodded again, in that weirdly formal way she had, and then she was gone. She had vampires to kill.

Alone, Nevada allowed herself a brief moment of pride that she’d done what she’d done. Next she’d take care of that thing Indie had asked of her, and then she was going to leave this place and find her family. With the spell in place again, surely they could find somewhere to hide until this was all over. And it would, one day, be over.

Deep in her heart she was sure that the Warriors would win. They had to.

Marie entered the unpleasant warehouse with her nose in the air and two of her strongest soldiers directly behind her. She hadn’t seen Ahron for a long time. If he was angry with her for not including him in her plans… well, he was strong, but if it was necessary the three of them could take him on. Perhaps.

She didn’t want to kill the old, disturbing vampire. He was a powerful psychic, and she needed him to help her. To join her. Her plans had suffered. In too many ways, her soldiers had failed her. Though she would not admit so aloud, she had failed herself. It was time to regroup.

In the last few days she’d moved from one house to another, making each one — each larger and more well-furnished than the last — her own. She’d killed or turned the humans who got in her way, settling in and then quickly becoming unsettled and unsatisfied. No mere house was sufficient for her needs. She deserved a castle. Perhaps a white house.
The
White House. In time.

She’d changed her clothing as often as she’d changed her mood. While she longed for the fine gowns of another time, for a style of dress which would mark her as a queen for all to note, such clothing was not always practical. For tonight she had chosen black pants, a black silk blouse, and high-heeled boots. While her clothing was plain, she had not given up her jewels. An enormous emerald hung from her neck. Drop earrings of the same stone hung from her ears. No matter what she wore, she would always appear regal.

In the past several days she’d made a number of children who would serve her. She’d killed with glee and drunk to her heart’s content.

Tonight she had been unable to take the home she’d chosen. She had been unable to cross the threshold. That damn witch. No one else could have done this to her!

Marie knocked on the narrow, metal door, which had long ago been painted a putrid green. It was a sad entrance, marked with rust and dents and… was that blood? She could’ve simply blown through his door and presented herself, and her frustration had almost led her to do just that. The rules that protected humans would not protect someone like Ahron. Still, she needed him with her, needed his help. It would be best not to piss him off right away. Just beyond the door, she heard him giggle. It was a disturbing sound.

The door swung open. Ahron, the most ancient vampire she knew or knew of, smiled at her. His appearance always disturbed her. He was small, with a greenish-white pale face of young features and ancient eyes. His hair had long been white, and he usually moved like an elderly man, though he did retain a magnificent strength.

She cared nothing for his odd looks. She was here for his mind; for his psychic powers.

“Marie, my dear,” he said, his always-elongated fangs showing as he stepped back and waved her in. When her soldiers attempted to follow, Ahron seemed to disappear and then reappear behind her — between her and her guards.

He could move with preternatural speed when it suited him.

She had the disturbing thought that in spite of his weak appearance he could kill both of her guards instantly, if he chose to. She’d be wise not to underestimate him.

“Just you, for now,” he said.

Marie nodded at her soldiers. Ahron closed the door.

The old vampire rubbed his frail looking hands together in glee. “It has begun! I’m so excited.”