Dead Rising (31 page)

“Better?” It was dark, but I could see Dario’s shape beside me. “Sure you don’t want to eat the bones too?”

Was he teasing? Humor, after all we’d been through? Maybe there was hope for our friendship after all.

“I was saving the bones for you.” I laughed the joke off, too embarrassed to admit that this was the first decent food I’d had in days.

It reminded me of something, though. “Have you eaten?”

He turned his head from me. “We’re rationing donors to ensure they’re available for the injured.”

Which didn’t answer my question, at least not directly. He’d have no time to go out and hunt either, not with the entire
Balaj
on high alert for any follow-up attack. “When will you be able to feed again? I mean
really
feed?”

“Depends on if this is over or not. Is it over?”

I winced. “I don’t know. Those spirits won’t be back tonight. I’m not sure if the necromancer will have enough power to summon more until tomorrow. I’m hoping I can have a sit down with him come morning and show him this is a war he can’t win.”

Dario sighed. “I’m sorry, Aria. I can’t hold back any longer. Leonora has put out a kill order on this necromancer, and I agree with her.”

I couldn’t argue with him. Honestly, I didn’t even have faith in myself to bring an end to this. I couldn’t fault Dario for the same.

“You didn’t answer my question, though. When will you be able to feed again?”

“Until we kill the necromancer, we’re on lock-down. We’ll probably let the younger ones out tomorrow night in rotation, but the older vampires will need to wait a few more days.” He shrugged. “I’ve gone weeks before. I’ll be okay.”

I remembered the dragon room in Middleburg and shivered. “The longer you go, the weaker you’ll be?” I waited for his nod. “So how can you defend your family if you aren’t full strength and there’s an attack?”

“You’d be surprised the resources that are left to draw upon when you’re fighting for your family’s, or your own, life.”

Still…I sat and listed to the music of the night as I thought. “I can be your donor. Just for tonight, you know, and that’s it.”

He laughed, and I winced at the bitter edge to the sound. “No. Because it wouldn’t just be tonight, and you could never be just a one-time blood donor to me. That’s a very slippery slope, Aria. Make sure you want to ride it all the way, or step away from the edge.”

I was truly a coward, because I did step away from the edge, desperately trying to find another topic of conversation.

“Thank you for letting Sarge take me to see Bella.”

“I wanted you to know that we take care of our own, and that there are vampires in our
Balaj
with a sense of honor.” He glanced over toward me as if he wanted to say something else, but then turned away once more.

I
was
beginning to trust him, was beginning to hope that maybe the impossible could become possible. But in spite of my optimism, we both had prior loyalties. “I know you’re not a bunch of blood-thirsty killers, Dario. I know that, but I still don’t agree with your casual attitude toward the death of humans. I want to trust you, and I want you to trust me, but there will be times when we can’t be honest with each other, when we’ll need to keep secrets.”

His back still faced me, and it was a few moments before he spoke. “Of course, but I hope that will be the exception and that we can manage to overcome centuries of distrust and violence. I had hoped that maybe if a Templar finally understood us, this tentative truce between our people could endure.”

Endure what? The cynic in me had always assumed the truce had been because we Templars wanted to stop hunting down vampires and focus more on research and the artifacts in the Temple. And polo, and gin, and perfecting their golf swings. No Templars wanted to end the truce. Did the vampires not realize that?

But that was something I didn’t have time to contemplate right now, not with a war going on right in my own city. They’d kill Russell, and I wasn’t sure tonight’s defeat would stop him. What would?

I stared at Dario’s back, trying to will him to face me. “Do you think it would help if the necromancer knew Shay lived on, even though she is undead and…disabled?” Crap, I wasn’t sure how to refer to her condition. “I don’t know if it will do any good or just make the situation worse.”

He slowly shook his head. “I don’t know either. You’ve met him. You would have a better opinion on that than I would.”

“Do you think they would be allowed to meet? Shay and her only surviving brother?”

“No.” The word was a sharp, quick utterance. “Bella is barely verbal and I don’t know how much she remembers of her human life. Also, there is the fact that she can be quite violent when hungry or upset. If he attacked her, if he even tried to hug her, I couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t kill him before we could intervene.”

And Russell wouldn’t like to see his sister restrained for his protection. Heck, he probably wouldn’t even want to see his sister as a vampire. He might consider her already dead and lost to him, just another monster to kill.

“You’re right. It’s probably best if he doesn’t know, if he still believes her to be dead.” I wasn’t sure if I was right or not, but I didn’t want to be the one to upset Shay’s calm and peaceful life. Or hurt Russell, who had been hurt so much already.

“I’m just glad we can provide for a vampire like Bella. A hundred years ago, we would have been forced to put her down. Of course, a hundred years ago no one would have ever attempted to raise her.”

I remembered what Sarge had told me, how Shay had been dead for so long and how Dario had been the one to sneak back and risk himself to try to right a horrible wrong. I felt a surge of admiration, and affection, for the vampire.

Dario and Leonora. What was up with the strange game of chess going on in this
Balaj
’s leadership? That was the question I really wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to start this newfound trust, this tentative thing between us with a question he couldn’t answer. So I asked the other question on my mind instead.

“Why did you go back to Shay and turn her? After she’d been dead for so long, why condemn yourself to exile by trying?”

He shifted his weight and turned enough that I could see his profile in the dim light. “So many had died, and I remembered…I remembered a time when friends, family, people I cared about were used and tossed aside like garbage. I remembered the fear, the anger, the sense of helplessness. We were trapped back when I was a human, owned by another and not given even the same consideration as cattle or dogs. I couldn’t do the same thing to these humans as had been done to me. I couldn’t stand by and let my family treat them this way.”

Dario looked out at the little pathway lights that led to a quiet koi pond. “She’d been dead for nearly an hour but I had to try. I didn’t expect her to awaken, but I had to try.”

But she had awakened, and he couldn’t euthanize her once he realized she’d never been fully functional. Suddenly it made sense, our earlier conversation about not abandoning family, about working around their special needs and making every attempt to keep them in the fold.

And something inside me ached as I realized how I’d misjudged Dario. I’d taken everything I’d learned in our Templar archives about vampires to be gospel. If he was different, if his
Balaj
was different, then there was a good chance others were, too. Yes, their blood slaves died. Yes, they killed with the ruthlessness of a mafia when crossed. But there was an odd honor about them.

“Sarge says he’s been Geraldo’s blood slave for six months.”

I didn’t know where that came from. Okay, I did. It had been on my mind from the moment Sarge had mentioned it.

“Yes, but Geraldo is struggling. It doesn’t help that Sarge constantly tempts him to up the frequency of their significant encounters. He’ll need to break things off soon or risk killing his lover.”

My eyes focused on the pond, too, the lights blurring a bit as the breeze stirred the surface. Six months. They might have one more “encounter” left to them, then Sarge would face heartbreak and withdrawal. And from the look on Dario’s face as he’d spoken, so would Geraldo.

“Dario?” It was Marcus, and again I was startled that I hadn’t even noticed him approaching. “Bridget…there’s something wrong with her and Leonora needs you.”

Dario looked my way and I patted my sword. “I’ll be fine. Go.”

They vanished in a blur of speed and I sat alone in the dimly lit garden, feeling anything but fine. Behind me was a house full of injured vampires—vampires who needed blood. And here I sat, safe in a backyard. I had clean, healthy blood, and I was hiding while my Pilgrims on the Path suffered.

My actions caused this. They died because I’d refused to give Russell up. Screw it. If they hurt me…well, I’d been stabbed, burned, and sliced. I’d had more concussions than a football player, been kicked by horses, as well as fallen down a few flights of stairs. Things happened when you’re a knight in training, and those things were probably a whole lot more painful than a desperate vampire savaging my wrist with his or her fangs. It would hurt. I’d probably have some minor withdrawal over the next few weeks. I’d survive, Dario would make sure of it. And if I could save one vampire, it would all be worth it.

I stood, putting the sword back into its scabbard and slinging it over my shoulder as I strode toward the house. Inside, there was an eerie silence. Dario said they’d moved the injured from the foyer, but to where? Where would be a safe place to put a hurt vampire in case of another attack?

I
DIDN’T HAVE
to guess for long. A piercing scream rent the air, followed by the sound of something thumping on the floor. I ran past the stairs and down a narrow hallway into what appeared to be a study or a library.

It was like a scene from a disaster movie, or one of those emergency room dramas. Blood was everywhere, thick and dark. Dismembered bodies lay on the floor and I wasn’t sure if they were alive or dead, vampire or human. The row of disheveled people with bandaged arms and heavily dilated pupils were definitely human—the blood donors.

“Get them out,” Leonora shouted. Her black leather didn’t show the smears of blood that stained her pale skin. She and the others were holding someone down with difficulty. I saw thrashing feet, heard another scream.

Two vampires broke from the crowd and grabbed the blood donors by their elbows, pushing past me in their rush to get them out of the building. For a brief second I wondered what the neighbors must be thinking about all of this. Junkies coming and going late at night, screams and crashing noises. Why the police weren’t here, I didn’t know.

One of the bodies on the floor suddenly began convulsing. I jumped aside to avoid his kicking feet. What should I do? There was no way I had the strength to hold him down. Vampires were strong and it was taking at least five of them to hold the other one.

“Guys? Guys, there’s another one here that needs help.”

Dario jerked his head around at my voice. “What are you doing here? Get out!”

“I’m helping.” I illustrated the limited scope of my helpfulness by moving a small table and a lamp away from the convulsing vampire. He was already hurt. The best I could do was move items out of reach so he wouldn’t be injured further.

Dario and another vampire left Bridget to hold the man on the floor. He jumped and kicked, making a series of moans and short screams as the other two vampires spoke to him soothingly.

I felt like a complete idiot, useless and in the way. “What does he need? Blood? He can have my blood.”

“It’s not that.” Dario adjusted his grip on the man’s shoulders, leaning his weight into him. Red began to leak from the wounds that had been closed seconds ago. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. I’ve never seen this before.”

I took a few steps backward, unwilling to go hide in the garden while they were all in crisis mode. What could I do beyond watch like some morbid voyeur?

And then I felt it. Smelled it. Sticky fur and long dead possum. I yanked the sword from its scabbard and whirled about, searching. Necromancy. But where were the specters? Had Russell summoned others? Was this his plan B? If so, I’d completely misread the man.

“Put that damned thing away,” Leonora shouted.

I ignored her. “Uh, Dario? I think—”

“Bella was like this,” he interrupted. “That night I left you and had to rush back. I’ve never seen that happen to a vampire before.”

I frowned, thinking. Bella seemed okay now, but she hadn’t been injured before having the seizure. I could only hope these guys could ride this out because there was a necromantic spell or summoning coming our way.

Then it hit me. Bella. Shay. That was the night Dario had ditched me on the curb and I’d needed to walk home, the night the Robertson family had been summoned from their graves. The first night Russell had performed his magic on his family.

And Shay hadn’t risen, hadn’t come to him, not because she was buried far away but because she wasn’t dead. Well, sort of not dead.

I lowered my sword and gaped at the vampire convulsing on the floor, new wounds opening beside the old and adding their dark blood to the soaked carpet. Summoning the spirit of a living human would do nothing. Outside of demonic action, our spirits remained solidly in our bodies until we died. But vampires weren’t truly alive, and thus their spirits were in a sort of transition zone between this life and the next.

The seizures suddenly made sense. Russell was summoning the souls out of the vampires. Shay had survived it, but these vampires were weak from their injuries. Plus I was sure the necromancer was putting considerably more force into this spell than one meant to awaken a beloved sibling.

They were going to die—this vampire and probably the others, too. And I still had no idea what to do to help them. Think. Think. I had nothing handy to anchor vampire souls in their bodies, no research to fall back on. I had only one idea, and it wasn’t going to be pleasant for anyone in this room.

I placed the sword tip-down on the floor and grasped it low. Touching my heart, I went down on one knee and made the sign of the cross with my other hand.