The Children of the Sun (29 page)

Naomi seemed to have no immediate response to this other than a slight coloring of her cheeks. Theroen knew from long experience that this meant she was both pleased with the statement and too embarrassed to admit it. He continued.

“The vampires in this country are teetering right now on the lip of an abyss. If we make the wrong move, we will all plunge to our deaths. We need help. We need to rally and organize or we will all die, and what then? The Children will have America. From there they will spread to Canada and Mexico. South America. After that, they will set their sights on Europe and Asia, and even Australia. If there is a vampire in Antarctica, they will find him and kill him. That is what they want.”

“What would you have me do about it?” Naomi asked him. She took the shoebox with the gun in it and lifted it from her lap, setting it on the coffee table, and turned sideways on the couch to face him.

“I would have you lead. You, and Jakob, and …”

“And yourself?” Naomi asked, and this time her smile held a glint of real amusement. “I am
not
the most senior member of the council,
Theroen-Sa
… that honor belongs to you by almost twenty years.”

Theroen sighed. “Yes, true, but I have been on the council for only a very brief time, and have not obtained the respect that you and Jakob have. I think even Two – though technically my apprentice – is more liked than I am.”

“They like you more than you think. But tell me … do you truly believe there is still hope?” Naomi asked.

“There is always hope until the last of us is dead,” Theroen said. “Forgive me if I would avoid hastening that eventuality. Naomi, if I cannot deter you from this path, at least give us time to—”

“Don’t you understand that if I had swallowed perhaps ten more pills, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation? The council can proceed without me. You can petition the Ay’Araf in Europe. They will come fight for you, and you can spring the very trap Two was advocating.”

“You are either delusional or deliberately underestimating yourself.”

“And you are making excuses for not following through on your promise!” Naomi exclaimed. She stood suddenly and paced back in forth in front of the window that spanned her entire western wall, staring out across the park.

“Naomi, this thing you are asking is … it’s …”

“It is a simple thing,” Naomi told him. “You’re the one making it very complicated. I have lived four times longer than any human should. I am tired, and empty, and alone, and I wish it to be done. Theroen, I am
begging
you!”

Theroen felt something welling within him, a sort of wordless despair. He thought at first that Naomi must be using her aura against him, but he realized after a moment more that the feeling was not coming from her. He and Naomi could spend the rest of the night trading rhetoric, but it would change nothing. When the sun rose and sent them to sleep, she would still be determined to die, and if he continued to refuse then she would only find some other person to grant her wish – or eventually pull the trigger herself.

Jaw clenched, he reached out and took the gun from its box. He stood, crossed the room to where Naomi waited by the window, and brought the gun up, pressing the cold metal lip of its muzzle against her forehead. She didn’t flinch. He had wondered if she would, if she might give him some sign here, at the end, that this was not truly what she wanted. Naomi gave him nothing – merely regarded him with her big, grey eyes, and waited for him to act.

Theroen hesitated and Naomi spoke in a low, murmuring voice, never dropping her gaze. “Do it.”

Theroen felt adrenaline course through him; he meant to pull the trigger. A single twitch was all that was required, and with it he could take away her pain forever. Naomi was right: it would not be hard, and no one would ever know. Would he ever be able to forgive himself? Did any of it even matter?

Theroen drew in a breath, one he meant to hold as he shot his oldest friend between her eyes. At that very moment, his cell phone rang. Theroen’s finger twitched, and he very nearly squeezed the trigger and gave Naomi the blackness she was asking for. He managed to avoid this, however, and instead stood poised for a moment more with the gun at her head, looking into her eyes.

“Please,” Naomi said, but Theroen shook his head and pointed the gun’s muzzle at the floor. Naomi visibly deflated and, after a shaking breath, covered her face with her hands. Theroen moved toward the kitchen, pulling his phone from his pocket.

Chapter 13
A Port in the Storm

They sat crammed into the backseat of one of New York’s hybrid cabs, watching the street signs flick by as they rolled slowly through the congested traffic on Seventh Avenue. Two thought it best to stay between Sasha and Leonore and so had taken the middle seat. She would have opted for the front – normally something of a breach of etiquette with fewer than four people – but it was filled with stacks of old newspapers and discarded coffee cups.

“You girls smell like smoke,” the cab driver said.

Neither Sasha nor Leonore seemed interested in responding to this, and so Two spoke. “We were … at this bar, and it’s, like, a log cabin theme inside, and they had a fire burning.”

“In July?” the driver asked. “Cheeeesus Christ, like it ain’t hot enough?”

“I know, right?” Two said, warming to the story. “It was so hot, and our makeup got all runny and smeared, and there was soot all over … that’s why we left.”

“That so? And I suppose your friend back there fell into a box of tomatoes or somethin’, right?”

Two glanced over at Sasha, who was looking out the window. The Ay’Araf woman gave the slightest shake of her head, as if disgusted by the entire situation. Two tried to continue her improvisation.

“You ever been to one of those clubs where they give out body paint?”

“Sweetheart, last time I was in a club, they still called ‘em dance halls, and you could buy a pitcher a’ suds for about seventy cents.”

“Guess that’s a no,” Two said.

“Listen, I been in this city forever. Sixty-eight years, born and bred, and I seen every single crazy fuckin’ thing you can possibly think of, OK? I had people in my cab bleedin’ all over the place, people coked up out of their mind and rantin’ crazy conspiracy shit, people literally fuckin’ right there in the back seat … so it’s no skin off my back, is all I’m sayin’. But if you need me to take you to the police or a hospital or somethin’ … you just let me know.”

“Thanks. We … we’re good,” Two said, and at this she saw Sasha lean her forehead against her hand and close her eyes.

“All right, doll. Corner of Greene and Broome you said, right?”

“That’s the place.”

“We’ll get ya there. Some kind of fuckin’ church fire going on, with explosions and shit. Traffic’s crazy. This fuckin’ city, I swear to God … it’s always somethin’.”

“Yeah,” Two said, shaking her head. “It always is.”

The rode in silence for some time, the cab driver swinging in and out of lanes, sometimes gaining a few car lengths, other times ending up stuck, mostly coming out the same as if he had simply stayed put. It was par for the course for New York, and Two wasn’t really even paying attention. She was thinking about Theroen, wondering if he was safe, hoping that he and Naomi had made it far away from the cathedral.

She was trying
not
to think about Tori, or about Jakob, but was having a hard time accomplishing it. Her friends: one corrupted, the other dead. What terrible things had the Children done to Tori to turn her into this killing machine? The Tori she knew, the one who had been so excited to see her parents again, could not have been the same person who so willingly lopped off Jakob’s head. She could still see it, flipping through the air, eyes wide …

Two came to the sudden realization that she was on the very edge of bursting into hysterical tears, and she was unsure if she was going to be able to do anything about it. She wanted Theroen. She wanted her friends back, and the life they had been living for the past two years. The whole of what had happened seemed suddenly ready to overwhelm her, to swallow her up completely. Fortunately, at that exact moment, Leonore leaned in and gave Two’s mind something else to focus on.

“How are we going to pay for this?” she asked, and Two blinked away her tears, considering the question.

“I’ve got cash at my place,” she murmured. “Should be plenty. You guys can stay with the cab so he knows we’re not stiffing him.”

Leonore nodded. “Very well.”

“Jesus Christ,” Two muttered to herself, and let out a shaky breath of air. The last time she could remember raw grief sweeping over her like that had been on the day after Stephen’s death, when she had found herself on her knees in the shower, leaning against the tile wall, her body wracked with sobs so powerful that it had left her muscles aching.

“Hold it together, please,” Leonore muttered, and Two glared at her, but after a moment she gritted her teeth and nodded. Yes, she would hold it together, at least until she found a private place to let the grief out. She knew it was not going away on its own; it required some kind of release. Two wondered if it was the same for Sasha, and whether that release would be violent or not. The Ay’Araf woman had made no further threatening gestures since advancing on Leonore in the tunnels, but Two was afraid she might yet boil over.

Traffic thinned as they moved further downtown, and the cab sped up. Two was watching the street signs and when she saw Greene Street come up, she said, “Left side, please. Don’t kill the meter yet.”

The driver made a noise of acknowledgement and angled in that direction, slowing to a halt at the corner.

“Mister, I’m really sorry, but I left my purse in my apartment,” Two said. “I’ll be right back. Leonore, Sasha, you guys can wait here.”

“No problem, kid,” the driver said. “I could use a smoke.”

Sasha stepped out of the cab, letting Two out. Leonore got out as well, but leaned against the rear of the car.

“I’ll be fine,” she said. “You two can go together, and that way Sasha and I don’t have to stand around and pretend to like each other.”

“That sounds excellent,” Sasha said, and began making her way up the street. Two glanced at the cab driver, who was also leaning against his car, smoking his cigarette. He caught her gaze and waved her on.

When Two caught up, Sasha glanced over and said, “Her honesty is refreshing, but in a way that makes me want to strangle her.”

“Yeah,” Two said.

“How are you going to get into your apartment without keys?”

“You’re going to give me a leg up to the fire escape, and then I’m going to kick in my window.”

“Security system?”

“Yeah, but we never use it.”

“That’s safe …”

Two gave a grim laugh and nodded. “After tonight, I think I’ll be setting the alarm anywhere I go for the rest of my life.”

Sasha came to a sudden halt, putting her arm out to block Two’s progress. “Do
not
look up. What floor do you live on?”

“Uh … eighth? Why?” Two forced herself not to give in to the sudden, overwhelming desire to glance toward her apartment. Sasha grabbed her arm and spun her around, leading her back toward the cab.

“Because there are at least four people wandering around your apartment right now, and a man on the balcony with a handgun. Next time, set the damned alarm.”

“Oh, are you fucking
kidding
me?!” Two cried, beginning to spin around without thinking. Sasha jerked again on her arm.

“Why don’t you just call them and tell them we’re standing out here?!” she hissed. “Two, we’re going back to the cab, getting into it, and telling your new best friend that he’s driving us somewhere far away.”

“OK … where?”

“I haven’t gotten that far yet,” Sasha said. They were approaching the cab now, and Leonore was looking at them in suspicion.

“Why are both of you here?” she asked.

“My apartment’s full of people with guns, and I didn’t invite them,” Two said, keeping her voice low. “Get in the cab.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Leonore groaned, but she moved quickly, returning to the back seat.

“Change of plans?” the driver asked from his seat, once all three of them had slid into the cab.

“Uh, yeah. Locked myself out. Gonna have to call the landlord tomorrow,” Two said.

“Sure,” the driver said, his tone amused. “So, where to now?”

There was a momentary pause as they considered their options. Two’s first instinct was to run to Brooklyn, to the home of her friends Rhes and Sarah. There, at least, they would find some kind of sanctuary. Then she thought of Aros, and the danger she had already put them in. What if the Children discovered that these humans were harboring vampires? Would they hesitate to break into the house? Two thought not, and she thought that if such a thing happened, this time Rhes and Sarah would not be so lucky as to be taken prisoner.

I can’t do that to them
, she thought.
I can’t risk them, and Molly, and the baby. It’s too much.

For a moment she had no idea what to do, and a bright bolt of panic ran through her. She had expected to find Theroen and Naomi here; what if they had been captured? What if they were both already dead? Had they gone to Naomi’s apartment in the West Village instead? Were the Children there, too? It seemed likely; Thomas had been giving them information for years. Surely they knew where she lived.