Here Be Monsters [2] (5 page)

Through it all she heard something overhead. A repetitive tapping on the roof. Rain? No, it was too rhythmic.
 

Suddenly she was on her ass—her hand at her slick and bloodied throat. Maeve was backing up and looking around as if she were being surrounded.
"You brought them here!"
she hissed.
"Damn Black Guard…"

Black Guard? Who? Siobhan actually coughed instead of spoke. Yeah, now she was pretty sure this bitch had cracked or broke her windpipe. It would heal—but she'd need blood to expedite that process.
 

Maeve moved beside her. Whispered in her ear.
"You have tasted their elixir, no? You have ridden their power—but you are not like us. You can't know the divine until you devour it whole. You will give that one to me—or I will kill them all."
 

And then she was gone and Siobhan felt a rush of wind as a window blew back. She stayed on her hands and knees for a while, listening, and was pretty sure there were people surrounding the apartment. But she also knew their heart beats weren't human. They were
elves
.
 

Maybe they were there to confront Song as well about his ability to know where the dead elves were. But if a creature like Maeve hadn't gotten the information from him—it was possible he
didn't
know.
 

She knew she'd regret her actions later—but she had no choice. When she could move through the pain of her crushed throat, Siobhan grabbed a glass from the kitchen, dunked it into the basin of blood and drank. It was growing cold, and stale, but it was still better than the blood she'd been drinking from blood banks.
 

And it made her strong. Song's blood was pure. Untainted by drugs. After two full glasses she'd had enough and with her new found strength, jumped and pulled Song down. The ropes snapped. So did his ankles but he was too far gone to notice. She knelt on the floor with him and cocked her head as she listened for his heart.
 

What she heard were the heartbeats of elves outside. They were at the door. And they had frightened this monster. She didn't sense Abyssinian and she was getting worried about him. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to leave. But she couldn't let him die like this.

She was a vampire—but she wasn't a monster.
 

Her fangs slid down and she pricked the lifeline in her wrist. With a sigh she streamed that blood over his lips. She watched as the fleshed writhed and curled and quickly reformed itself. Then she pulled his mouth open, pressed his tongue down, and poured the blood inside just as someone beat on the door. "Mr. Song? This is the police! We need you to open up!"
 

Siobhan blinked. The police? There weren't any more active elves on the force that she was aware of—but she still sensed the stronger heart beat of elves—and
several
of them. They were on the roof. So—when did the police start working with elves? Or was it possible that the police didn't know they were there?

Song started to move as he choked and tried to turn away from the blood.
 

"No…stop it. You have to drink it or you'll die."
 

"No—" he managed to croak out as she forced his mouth open. That meant his tongue was regrowing and she was pretty sure he was on the mend everywhere else. She pressed her wrist to his mouth and he drank.

"This is the only way to save your life. Quickly—what the fuck
was
that woman?"
 

Song drank a bit more and pushed her arm away. He choked up blood and it spilled over his cheeks. She realized he was crying and trying really hard not to. "A monster.."
 

"Yeah I got that part. But what was she wanting?"
 

"Win—" he coughed again and his eyes eyes fluttered open. He really wasn't a bad looking kid. Sort of reminded her of Takeshi Kineshiro when he was younger. Somewhere around the
House of Flying Daggers
period. "Winter…born."
 

"What is that?" She heard the police give the signal to break the door down. Shit!
 

"Un—" he started as the door cracked wide open with one hit.
 

The rest was lost in the charge of men inside.
 

But Siobhan was already up and delivering a good kick to the first one. The other she round housed backwards before she jumped into the rafters. They all raised their guns at her, told her to freeze, but she jumped through the window, taking glass and frame with her as she tumbled to the street below.
 

- 6 -

Abyssinian had no idea of how long he lay on the ground. He was only vaguely aware of things crawling around him, and over him. The stone was cold against his cheek and felt good against his fevered body.
 

Thom had made the gravest of mistakes.
 

He'd poisoned an elf with Iron.
 

Within the laws of the Seleighe—this was a crime worth punishment. And sometimes death. The only problem Aby could see with this was that no one knew.
 

He was in a room beneath the castle—that much he could tell by the sounds. The dripping water. The scurry of creatures. And the distant sounds of singing. Aby tried to call out once or twice but the the act of pulling in a lung full of air was met with a pain that immediately robbed him of breath.
 

The arrow was still in his side—burrowed deep and festering. His wrists were chained behind him to prevent him from pulling the arrow out himself. He was helpless and powerless. The Iron negated his magic.
 

Thom and his guards had interrogated him—always the same questions—
who else has tasted your blood. Did you make Siobhan McDonnell a day walker?
He answered truthfully—and yet Thom seemed to find pleasure in pushing the arrow in deeper as he sat helpless chained to a chair.
 

Sleep came unbidden—but it was a welcome escape. He only hated the moments like this where he was awake, and hungry, and thirsty…and in pain.
 

He'd not expected to hear the door hinge creak. There was no click of a lock—there was no need of one. The UnSeleighe prisoner was incapable of moving as long as the arrow remained in place.
 

Abyssinian didn't hear the step of a boot on the stones, but what sounded more like the patter of bare feet. He struggled to shift his position—but the act of moving only aggravated the wound and he blacked out.
 

When he came to again, he felt a cold, wet, soft towel over his face. He was no longer on his stomach but had been moved onto his side. With the wounded side up the pain seemed less intense—either that or he'd lost all feeing in his body. The towel disappeared. He heard it dunked in water, wrung out and again applied to his face.
 

Aby cleared his throat but kept his breathing shallow. "Who..." He managed to croak out, unable to see anything. It was the first time he realized he was blindfolded.
 

"Shhhh," came a female's voice. "Don't talk. Just listen to me."
 

Aby didn't want to be quiet—he wanted to know who she was and would she pull the arrow from his side. But a finger on his lips kept him from speaking.
 

"Prince you must listen to me."
 

She knows who I am!
 

"Rhymer's faithful guard tried to capture the Fallen—but they stopped when they realized your vampire was with her."
 

He listened quietly as she cooled his forehead. His fever was worse. And if the arrow wasn't removed soon, he knew he'd lapse into a coma that very little could pull him from. Elves poisoned too long with Iron became like iron themselves. Cold. Hard. Unmoving.
 

A living dead thing.
 

"They found a Fallen, dear Prince. Something that your brother had fought long and hard to eradicate in order to save our people. They said the monster was torturing a human and your vampire saved him—unfortunately the police arrived at that moment and assumed the carnage left in the building—the damage done to the human—was caused by her. He'd been drained of blood."
 

Drained of blood? Oh god and of course they'd suspect a vampire. The humans had no knowledge of the Fallen
. He nodded to her, hoping she would go on.
 

 
"As far as I know—they didn't identify who the vampire was—but the Rhymer knows now there is a third player in the game. Someone else who knows of the blood and is seeking out a Winterbourne, draining the elves dry until they find it."
 

"I thought…" he said and his throat ached. "Oberon had—"
 

"No. Oberon knew only half of what was happening. He knew there were bodies—elven bodies drained of blood. And he knew the vampires would be blamed. He only just discovered the truth when your vampire filmed him. And out of context—he appeared guilty. Oberon sits in a human prison—but the real murderer is still out there." She paused. "And so is the monster."
 

There was really a Fallen in the Mortal Realm.

"I need to be free…" he said and hissed as his movement set the arrow in motion. "I—I can't stay here—"
 

"You have to stay here for now," the woman said. "Whether you believe this or not—you're safer here. Here the Fallen can't get to you. The few of us that know what the Rhymer has done are working on a way to free you from this.." And he felt cool lips on his cheek. "A Prince should not be treated as such. But we believe the Regent is afraid. Of the monster. And of you—or of what your blood could do to it."
 

"I don't…I don't understand."

"If it takes a single drop of your blood, Abyssinian Geld," the woman's voice grew soft. "Merlin's curse will be nullified, as is the magics worked into the Winterbourne. And if the Fallen can gain access back into Underhill, there is nothing that will stop it from attacking us and destroying everything. But it's not just us in peril, Abyssinian. The human realm cannot battle a creature like it—something so filled with the contrary of nature that it cannot be contained."
 

He cleared his throat and tried to speak clearly. He needed water. "Is there no way to kill it?"
 

"The sun of both realms will destroy it," she said and he felt her shift as she moved away, and then returned and pressed something to his lips. "Drink this."
 

It was spring water. Cold and delicious on his parched throat. He drank as deeply as he could before he noticed the aftertaste. He stopped and turned away but not before his head grew heavy and his limps numb. "What…what did you do to me?"
 

"It's only a small drug, Prince. It will simulate the final state of the poisoning. If Thom believes you are no longer a threat to him—he will remove the arrow." She touched his forehead. "Just relax and sleep."
 

But he didn't want to sleep. Not now. He needed to get to Siobhan and protect her. Without his blood, she was as vulnerable as any other vampire. He tried to fight the blanket of darkness that pulled itself over him…and failed.
 

The
Underhill Regent, Thomas Rhymer, read the reports handed to him on parchment. Some were typed on white bond paper—printed out on computers in the Human Realm. It didn't matter to him how he gleaned the information, he just needed to know what was happening.
 

His man at arms, a High elf named Xe'Faun, stood at attention near the table. Since Thomas learned of the possibility of a Winterbourne still moving about in the Human Realm, he'd commandeered the parlor room as his office and filled it with the old tomes he'd had brought out from the archives. All the legends of the Winterbourne, those of the Fallen, all the things Oberon had tried to silence—Thom brought them back to life.
 

What surprised him above everything else was that the very Winterbourne he'd been searching for these two years was under his nose the whole time. Abyssinian Geld. All records of his being born during that year had been altered—possibly by Oberon's hand.
 

The former High King had know what his brother was—and Thom had learned he'd even tried to contain his brother for a time.
 

Why?
 

What had Oberon been up to? Really?
 

And who was it that was killing the UnSeleighe in the Mortal Realm if it wasn't
Her
.
 

"And you're sure Siobhan O'Donnell had nothing to do with what happened to Keith Song?"
 

"Yes my lord," Xe'Faun said. "We came upon the same scene she did at the same time. With the same surprise. She'd been with Abyssinian previously and then at the station. It's our belief she has no idea what it was she encountered—but it engaged her, and if didn't appear as if it intended to do her harm."
 

"Yes," Thom nodded slowly as he re-read another report. "It no doubt sensed she was kin in a way. And she spoke of Winterbourne?"
 

"Aye sir." Xe-Faun start to speak again.
 

When he didn't, Thom leaned toward him in askance. "What is it?"

"It's—" he swallowed. "It's the Prince my lord. We've not been able to find him since he rescued that human child. We had reports he'd returned here to Underhill on your summons—and a few say they've seen him here."
 

"Yes he came here," Thom said as he watched the elf's face. He knew loyalty to the House of Geld was strong. Loyalty to Oberon was still very high, and many of those in the court did not see Thom as a real leader, but only as a temporary replacement.
 

And even though Abyssinian was UnSeleighe—he was still a Prince—and if Oberon did not return then a good many of the Council would vote to bring Aby in as High King.