In Blood We Trust (37 page)

Taraline said, “You're only the peacekeeper.”

“How could I possibly have picked sides last night? If I'd taken up Hana's back, I would've been choosing Stamp, too. And if I'd gone the other way—”

Gabriel interrupted. “You would've chosen me.”

“That's right, and against Hana, that struck me as wrong.”

Taraline folded her hands behind her back. “A world of gray, not black and white anymore. Even Mariah has had moments of being just as bad as any bad guy out there, although her intentions are good for the most part.”

“Good power can still corrupt,” the oldster said, “and I've been working round to teaching her that.”

“So has Chaplin,” Gabriel said.

“Well, he comes from a different place, as far as I can tell. Chaplin seems to believe that suffering redeems, and Mariah hasn't gotten to a place where she's done enough of it.”

Gabriel talked before he thought. “That's hard-core, Michael.”

“Chaplin's a hard-core dog.”

Chaplin. He'd decided not to defend Mariah last night when that was all he'd been doing his entire life.

“Does he think Mariah still doesn't need him?” Gabriel asked.

“She's gone beyond him, Gabriel.”

He knew that telling everyone what Mariah had relayed to him a couple of hours ago would be for the best, so he did it without compunction. “When the full moon hits, that dog needs to steer clear of her, oldster. Her appetites . . . I think her brain is starting to see Chaplin as something like a Civil monster, just like 562 might have. I figure this because Intel Dogs and Civils are both more powerful than humans, something different from humans or Reds . . .”

The oldster gasped. “She gets hungry for him?”

“I can't say.” Gabriel looked to her room. “But even if Chaplin were to change his mind about Mariah, it might be best to keep him away from her altogether, especially during the full moon.”

“Wonderful,” the oldster said.

A few moments passed, and he went to stand in front of the viszes.

Taraline took a spot next to him. “At least those Witches and Shredders are destroyed. Do you think that was the last of the Witches?”

“It depends,” Gabriel said. “We don't know how many died in GBVille or how many there were to begin with. If these were the last two, I'd count ourselves lucky.”

The oldster said, “I can't believe Stamp's done.”

“You were still out with Hana when it happened,” Gabriel said.

“We saw evidence enough of it since Zel's door was blown open to the common room. I cleaned up after our return and the full moon released me.” The oldster kept watching the screens. “Too bad the same doesn't hold true for those 'bots I mentioned yesterday. If only they'd be dead, too. That way, we'd take out a couple of the government's precious little tech pets. From what we know via those GBVille reports, the gov don't have very many operational'bots—just these new Monitors that were put into place after the Indian sanctions were lifted. They cost an arm and a leg—”

“—and it'd take a chunk out of the government's improving resources if they
were
dead,” Gabriel said, his mind gearing up. “It'd be quite a statement.”

The oldster was still just complaining. “I'm thinking that we shouldn't even be hanging round the Badlands if there's any chance that they're patrolling. What if they registered those shades circling above our bloodletting last night?”

“It's completely possible they'll be here soon, then.”

“Fuck. Fuck a duck.”

Taraline sighed. “Fuck is right.”

As the oldster gave her a curious look, Gabriel remained calm. After all, he and the oldster were monsters. They could take down humanity, so why couldn't they do the same to a couple of 'bots?

And it was the final night of the full moon, when most of them were at their sharpest.

The oldster's eyes got kind of bright as he watched Gabriel. “What's running through that vamp mind of yours?”

Gabriel smiled. “I don't know about you, but I've got an itch to scratch, and I'm sure Mariah will need something to occupy her, too. Are you up for some running around tonight?” He paused, then added, “In the open?”

Then Gabriel told him everything, and the oldster liked the idea well enough.

So they waited for the night to deepen and create its magic with the moon, waited for Mariah to awaken. Then, knowing that they'd probably never be on the same side again, the three monsters set out into the Badlands to take care of the last of their business together.

O
ne last hurrah.

We were patrolling the perimeter of our homestead, with Gabriel using his senses to see if there were any 'bots about. The oldster and I let him do the work for now, seeing as the moon still hadn't peaked.

That was when we'd take over.

Hana was back at the homestead with Chaplin, and Taraline was keeping Mags company in my domain just in case the were-deer caused any trouble with my dog. We didn't really expect that, though, since the oldster had lied to Hana about Gabriel being staked by a Witch last night. She'd wanted to see a body or at least some evidence of this on a visz recording, but we'd reminded her that, unlike a were-creature, vampires imploded to nothing upon termination, and besides, Gabriel had been ended out of the visz's range of view.

This meant, of course, that Gabriel wouldn't be going back to the homestead. Wherever he headed, though, I knew I shouldn't go with him. Not after that talk we'd had. Following the full moon's demise tonight, there'd be nothing left for us except the hope of next month and, meanwhile, I couldn't live with his distance while I yearned for more from him.

I'd probably be happier on my own, without all the heartbreak we caused each other. Sure, I kept asking myself why I just couldn't suck it up and deal with the troubles we caused one another during the rest of the month when there wasn't a full moon, but the way Gabriel looked at me now . . . the way he
didn't
look at me . . . Well, if you've ever been in love, you'd understand. You need to have it returned or else you feel like you don't even exist, or worse, that you do exist and you're worthless. It tears you apart just to think that you're nothing in someone's heart and mind.

The oldster and I, both out of our clothing in anticipation of the change, watched from behind the rise of a hill as Gabriel darted here and there, trying to lock his heightened sights on any signs of 'bots.

“We've been out here for a while,” the oldster said. “How long do you think this is going to take?”

“I don't know, but when the moon pulls, you, at least, won't be able to think about what you're doing.”

“I guess I won't be so interested in 'bots then since they don't have blood.”

Gabriel disappeared behind another gathering of hills, and I could feel the oldster latch his full attention onto me. Great.

“I been thinking,” he said.

I sighed.

“Someone has to do it.” He scratched at his whiskers. “Where're you gonna end up, Mariah?”

It went unsaid that none of us would stay together.

“I'm not sure yet.” I didn't tell him that I wasn't certain just where I belonged anymore. All I knew was that Liam had told me I should stay separated from 562. Everywhere else but GBVille was open to me.

Yup, there were lots of locales to go from here. Maybe I'd even head to a random hub farther east to see if more places had fallen yet, just like GBVille. Or maybe I should go to old D.C., where the major action was probably happening even at this moment, with monsters trying to take down the bigwigs.

For the first time ever, I sure wished my dad hadn't extracted the personal computer from my arm and patched it up by allowing my were-healing to mend me. And I wished that computer would get reception in the nowheres. I would've liked to see if any rumors were flying round the Nets about mosquitoes and the like, and if the government was acknowledging that the diseased killers had gotten to old D.C.—which would mean that the monsters had taken over communications.

The oldster flopped from his belly to his back. “After this, I'm gonna take care of Hana.”

I smiled at him, mostly because of the determination in his tone. “She's lucky to have you.”

“We'll see about that. I'll have to find someplace decent for her to give birth. I'm thinking of that outpost near the Badlands borders, the tent city. Hana and I can manage there, just until she has the baby.”

“And then?”

“Then I'm considering going back to GBVille. Hopefully, she'll want to come with me.”

GBVille? Where Pucci had died?

But there was something about the oldster's moonlit expression . . .

“What's back in GBVille?” I asked.

“Possibilities. Even after everything that went on, I still think we monsters can make a go of it. By now, I'm sure the Civils and the Reds have gone to council. I bet they've got their priorities halfway straight.”

“The vampires are in charge. It'll be their way or no way.”

“I've come to accept that it'll be the same case in every hub we take over. Vamps have powers I can barely even imagine—powers I don't think I'd want. And, frankly, they can have the reins as long as they don't ever mind-wipe me.”

He slid a glance to me, almost as if he were lending assurance that he wouldn't ever ask for a taste of my blood, as I'd once dreaded. The oldster was fine as he was.

He added, “I've got someone on the inside of GBVille who might go a long way in letting the vampires know that I can be on their side.”

“Someone?” My voice caught on the word.

“Falisha,” he said.

The name seemed to linger in wistfulness on the oldster's face for some reason, but he sat up before I could really be sure. He was frowning, as if he didn't want to be thinking about her, and I could see why. I didn't know her well, but she was a tik-tik.

“It's good you're going to get Hana out of here,” I said, changing the subject, much to his obvious relief. “The only thing holding Gabriel back from killing her has been our full-moon link, and I'm not sure he'll last much longer if she attacks him again.
I
might even hurt her.”

“You came close last night.”

I didn't apologize. Hana had run on the wrong side of me, and nature had almost taken its course.

“You'll look after Chaplin?” I asked.

He rested a hand on my bare arm. “Just as if he were my very own.”

I breathed out, then in, telling myself I wasn't going to cry. The oldster held tight to me, as if knowing that it was the only thing I had left—a touch from the person who felt like my last friend on earth.

“You'll find others,” he said. “Don't you worry about that.”

“But I won't have Gabriel.”

I tried to smile, yet it broke somewhere along the way, and I lowered my head so my chin-length hair covered my face. Maybe this way
I
wouldn't break altogether.

“And what about Taraline?” he asked.

“I'm hoping that if Gabriel decides to take the new vampire, Mags, under his wing, both of them might escort Taraline to 562. She'd make a good day guardian.”

Before this, I'd told the oldster about hiding 562 with the guardian vampires. I didn't tell him where they were, though, or how much I wanted to see the origin again.

“She might be happy there,” he said. “She and 562 always got along. She was almost like another daughter.”

“She would've been if me and Gabriel hadn't put a stop to the rampage.” 562 hadn't attacked Taraline for blood back at the asylum—she/he had wanted an exchange. Was it because 562 felt for wounded women, like the tik-tiks she/he had created from the corpse of a female who'd lost everything?

I didn't add that I suspected Taraline might be desiring Red blood soon. If she agreed to day-guard 562, she might be perfectly happy with Liam and the twins lending her a blood treat every so often. But that'd be up to Taraline. After 562 had tried to exchange with her, I'd realized that she wasn't out to give up her soul just so she could become a vampire and heal that dymorrdia of hers; she'd never wanted to live eternally, just fully.

As the oldster started to say something, he stopped himself, looking right above my head.

He didn't have to say who it was because my pulse spiked.

Gabriel, standing on a rise of hill above us.

He'd sneaked up, just like a breeze that suddenly comes and whips to nothing. Had he been close enough to listen to us?

I folded my arms over my chest, trying to control my battering reactions to him. “We were just talking about Taraline and Mags.”

His essence tangled into me, wrestling with the tug of the moon, which was gathering strength by the minute.

But his gaze was still a million miles away.

“I heard you,” Gabriel said, but he didn't add any more.

Stranded, alienated. There I was once again.

He looked out over the hill, his profile etched in rough lines, honed from each blow that life had delivered to him. “If you two are still interested, I located two 'bots about twenty miles yonder. From where I was, the acoustics helped me hear them moving around, even from way off.”

“What're they doing?” asked the oldster.

“Traveling this way, and they're going at a good clip. If there are still operational satellites, I wouldn't be surprised if they're using images from last night. But they were far enough away to need some time to get here.”