The Bonded (29 page)

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Authors: John Falin

Tags: #Urban Fantasy, #Fiction

BOOK: The Bonded
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The scientist gets cozy in the chair, relaxing in his apparent victory under the false impression that he’s holding all the cards. He says, “He has the last of the blood-water.” Quilici and I look to each other with jaws agape. “Cassius hypothesizes that, with our modern technology, we will be able to extract the catalyst components that grant eternal life.” He smiles from ear to ear. “We will become immortal and only choose those who are worthy to join us in our endeavor to exterminate your
kinds
and subjugate humanity.” If he does an evil laugh, I’m going to bitch slap him! Good, the moment is quiet, but heavily pensive.

He seems too comfortable in his chair, glowering in the knowledge that he has given Quilici and me a frightening reality check. I internally review all that he has said and hope I will have sufficient time later to process the data because I know Cassius must have alternate plans and plans that are tangents to those. His confidence rouses me and I say, “You better wipe that smirk off your face, Doctor, or I’ll use your precious Angeion and make it permanent!” His smile responds instantly, puckering to a tight close-lipped frown that slightly quivers with fear.

Quilici enjoys my reaction and I sense his urge to kill the man, but his resolve to solve the riddle is stronger. I feel encouraged so I continue. “Just so we are very clear, let me repeat what has been said. Cassius needs me to use the sword and locate the fae, who have the secret location of Anu. Then interrogate or manipulate Anu to obtain the locality of the blood-water so that you can then extract and separate the molecules that give you and your kind extended lives and Anu his immortality. Then as a great finale, you will assimilate it with Cassius and his chosen few so that they can rule the earth forever? Is that an accurate description?”

He struggles with that damn smile again, trying to subdue it in fear of repercussion, but the battle is lost from the excitement as he responds, “That’s right, Adriel. I’m pleasantly surprised that you were capable of repeating what I just explained.” His sarcasm is irritating and I want to kill him now.

“What about my mother?” Playtime is over.

He sneers at her thought and I strike him with a backhand. Quilici and I salivate at the scent of the wet hot blood that shotguns from his nose. The atmosphere cranks up a couple of notches on the intensity scale and the good doctor cowers back in the recliner, realizing that his position of power was a delusion. “Where did you find her and who is my father?”

Quilici takes one step closer, snarling with danger, while I attempt to regain my composure. He replies, “Alright, alright, just don’t kill me. I promise to hide… I won’t ever contact Cassius again. Will you help me? I had nothing to do with her… I am just a scientist obeying orders.”

I take this one from Quilici and grab the chair arms, leaning over inches from his face. “Now I’m really interested, Doctor. I suggest you cooperate or this will be a very long evening. Do we understand each other?”

He barely nods yes and starts with a whisper. “I don’t know where he found her or how he captured her, but I received a call with orders to meet him in Dahlonega, Georgia, at our underground laboratory. I immediately rearranged my schedule and made a hurried trek through the Georgia Mountains. When I arrived, she was already there and contained with IVs and medication being pumped into her.” The words frail and body were spoken with the pleasure of a sick, private fantasy. “In those years we did not have the science to utilize in vitro fertilization or genetically splice egg cells, so we waited for decades until the technology caught up to our needs. Finally, after years of patience and incalculable failures we were rewarded as her egg cell accepted a vampire sperm. Their evolved natures fought it, but in the end, a one in a million lottery was won.”

He is grinning in pure delight at his accomplishment when I ask, “Who was the donor?”

He relaxes back into the superior role. “Why, Mr. Darkre, I’m surprised you didn’t see the resemblances.”

I physically cringe and spit out the stinging taste of disgust as his words attack me. In my gut, I knew. I could feel the truth in it, thinking back to the beating I received from Cassius, and wonder how a father could do that to a son. Of course, I wasn’t his son, just an experiment and tool that is required in his quest for immortality. I turn my attention to Quilici as he straightens his posture in validation and I realize that he suspected all along, but thought sharing it without evidence served no purpose. Clever waer.

I take a well-deserved moment to regain my tenuous composure and think back to my adopted father as he always said, “Never let ‘em see you sweat.” I suck it up and look at him with ambivalence, coldly asking, “What-was-her-name?” He relishes in my pain and wants to disregard our threats to share something that will even hurt me more, but the thought is stuck on his tongue. I goad him. “It must be horrible for you to tremble in front of a being as powerful as me, especially when you know that my blood is tainted by the fae. It’s not pure like yours, yet here we are, and I’m quite the superior, aren’t I, Doctor?”

He jerks back and springs to his feet with inspired indignity. I can smell his contempt when he snaps, “You are nothing! Your power is temporary and when Cassius and I have taken what we need, you will be discarded… with your inferior mutt friend and traitorous vampire.” Now he feels my tension and relaxes in the satisfaction of knowing he has regained control.

He says, “Oh, I am quite aware they have your sweet Percy.” The demon is pressing against my chest, pounding rhythmically in a slow beat. His words are starting to fade as my ears only receive the loud throbbing of my heart. I squint and lean in to hear him breathing heavy and dripping sweat. “I also know what they did to her last time. It was quite painful, I can assure you, but this time we will not be as kind. You see, Adriel, I’m not the scared little scientist who is hidden in the forest. They will be here within minutes and you will be what you were born to be, a means to an end, and you will have the privilege of hearing Percy scream… just as your disgusting mother did!” Something is clawing though my stomach, trying to escape. “Oh yes, Adriel, she screamed over and over every night, for decades, begging us to kill her. Cassius just kept going, raping her and beating her while trying to create you and laughing in delight. I was sad when it was over.”

I’m shaking my head, trying to let his words get through the bubble and ask, “What did you say?”

He replies with pleasure, “I said your mother begged for death!”

The message is received and I reach into my coat and feel the pliant hilt of my sword, pleading me to use it. A spark passes from me to Angeion, but instead of recoiling from the shock, I wrap my hand around the hilt and unleash it from the scabbard. There is no peaceful connection that sedates me, no feelings of completion; it’s a shared fury that multiplies with momentum as the circuit is in a closed loop. With no sound but a muffled drumbeat from a furious heart, I look at my surroundings to gauge the atmosphere. Quilici is staving off his primal urges with the scientist caught in laughter, mocking my dead mother. The pressure is immense and a small part breaks free, igniting my sword as blue arcs of electricity jump from me to Angeion and back again. I fix my eyes on the doctor, seeing his sudden fear overwhelm his laughter, and raise my sword with both hands over my head. I feel the sting as shards of blue roll over my teeth and down my throat, reconnecting with the source while the ice-blue inlays on the sword pulsate with my heartbeat.

I can hear a faint scream somewhere in the distance that swells into a “Nooooo!” The deep bass vibration lets me know its Quilici, but it’s too late. I bring down Angeion with such speed that the doctor only has time to lift his arm in defense as the electric sword cuts through his wrist and through the top of his head, slicing his body completely in half from head to groin. Steamy, blood explodes all over the room like a fragment grenade while his body begins a slow incineration. Ashes flake off, changing color from orange to grey as they float through the room and out the unhinged door.

When the moment is over, I hear the remnant of a battle cry and realize it’s me manifesting the escaped demon. Stumbling backward, I release Angeion. The current is lost as I let the sobering effect of revenge wash over me. Quilici catches me before the fall, moving me to the couch where I lounge, gathering my strength. We lock eyes and I say, “Let’s go.” There are no other words needed, and none that would be appropriate, so we run. I don’t run to avoid a confrontation with whoever is on their way. I run for Percy.

Moments later, we reach the bikes and I’m a tad winded from the exertion with Angeion. Quilici says, “We need to regroup and think through another strategy. We’ll go to my retreat and rest there.”

I harden my will and peer into him resolutely. “I’ll not be joining you, Quilici. I’m going to get Percy and I’m going to kill Cassius.” The tone is flat, devoid of emotion, and he senses there will be no negotiation.

There is a lingering second that stands between us; then he says, “I understand, but do you? We will not survive the night if we simply go charging in to his community without a plan. We are hopelessly outnumbered and you do not have the skill nor strength to kill Cassius, let alone Seth. It is a suicide mission, Adriel.”

I hear the pleading in his voice and I know the reasoning is sound, so I continue. “I can’t let them hurt her. If we plan, it will be at least a day or two before we can take action and that isn’t acceptable. If I die tonight while trying to save her, they will kill her due to her uselessness. I would rather her die than live with what they will do to her. I know she shares this sentiment as well. I’m leaving. You can choose to die with me or go home.”

I pull out my motorcycle goggles from my right inner pocket and swing my leg over the bike while starting the engine. I don’t even bother to look at him as I throttle the gas and throw dirt from my rear tire. It ends tonight!

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

The motorcycle purrs appreciatively from the idle rest as I find myself at the beginning of another dirt road. I’m not concerned about stealth or ninja-ing my way through the forest to avoid any unnecessary attention. This time, I’m going straight into Hell and I’m going to kill whatever gets in my way. I take a very deep breath through my nose, steeling my nerves in preparation, when the unmistakable sound of a Harley Davidson rattles the air. I inwardly sigh with relief, thankful for his loyalty.

Quilici smoothly pulls in next to me, takes a second, and then says, “What’s the plan?”

“We ride in there and call them out. Then we kill every motherfucker we see. When we’re done, we get Percy and I cut Cassius’s head off.” Clean and simple.

“Well, it’s not the most sophisticated of strategies—let’s do it!” I barely hear the last word because he revs the engine so loud that people in Baltimore know where we are. We look at each other one final time, allowing the severity of the situation to wash over us. With murder on our minds, we give a nonverbal gratitude of our friendship and leisurely ride into the vampire neighborhood.

Stealing a busy minute to enjoy what may be our final moments of life, we twist and turn through an overgrown road. Untrimmed branches reach for us, snagging our shirts and scraping paint off the bikes, attempting to slow us down so we can rethink this suicide mission, but our resolve pushes us through. In my mind, all I can see is Percy, whimpering from torture and trying her best to hide her pain from those that would relish in her submission. The vision gives me fuel for hatred and hatred will give me blood.

I physically snarl at an invisible enemy, fantasizing about a killing when the tunneled road opens into the community landscape where nine houses sit in a crescent, facing us as if they were specifically placed there to greet potential threats. The memory of my first evening here rushes in, as the stars still shine unhindered in a cloudless sky and the air is silent with anticipation. We leisurely coast to the center and give the bikes one last throttle to ensure everyone is aware of our presence and then shut them off as the booming exhaust echoes off the trees.

Without acknowledging one another, Quilici and I dismount the bikes and walk ten yards toward the houses. My head is down in a vacant and mindless stare at the ground as I absorb the environment through my hyped-up senses. I can hear the restless pitter patter of activity in the hidden lower floors and smell the anxiety that always accompanies war. My eyes lift as a sudden reaction to a scent that has become all too familiar when several vamps and two waers cautiously materialize from the undulating shadows. All of them are excited and nervous, but the anxiety isn’t the result of my presence; it’s Quilici. The waers look to him with conflict in their minds, debating the justification for murdering an Alpha without a fair trial or opportunity to hear his perspective. I hope Quilici doesn’t grant sympathy for their apprehension or hold back in hopes that he can persuade them with reason to let us go or at the very least, leave this place. Personally, I hope their inner turmoil gives us the split second advantage that we need to kill them.

One of the vampires says, “You have made a grave error in coming here. I admit, none of us thought you would be stupid enough to do it, but here you are.”

My words won’t be as meaningful, so I decide to let Quilici handle the preamble as he ignores the vamps and addresses his waers. “Friends, you don’t have to do this. I can sense your conflict. Leave now before you do something that you will regret.”

The vampire is infuriated that he is blatantly dismissed and says, “When I speak to a
waer
, I expect to be acknowledged.” He distastefully annunciates waer. “They are here merely as backup. For some unknown reason, Caedmon and Cassius feel that you may create a challenge, but I see nothing more than a bookworm waer and his scrawny friend.”

The waers take offense to his degrading remarks, but one seems to digest his words with more scrutiny than the other. The other says, “Back up or not, you will not survive this night, Quilici. You’ve betrayed your own kind and have been issued a death sentence by Caedmon himself, the new and strong Alpha leader. You may be a worthy opponent, but there is no way you can survive these odds.”

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