The Waking (The Upturned Hourglass) (33 page)

“Fen…
don’t,” the bartender cautioned without much conviction. The warning went unheeded as Fen locked his crimson eyes with Valie’s.

No one moved. The entire bar had seemed to still and quiet until nothing could be heard but the bartender polishing glasses as if things like this happened all the time.

Meanwhile, Fen easily pulled Valie closer until the girl’s face was inches from his ugly visage. He then opened his mouth in a devilish grin, allowing his victim to watch as his fangs slowly slid out of their sheaths. His surprisingly cool breath was salty, metallic; it was the smell of stale blood. 

It remained a silent standoff until Marcum groaned, “If this is going to happen, let’s make it happen. Otherwise, let the human go so we can get back to our drinks.”

“I’ve had nothing but cheap red in this place,” he growled. “I could use something
fresh.
Go back to your drinks dogs; it looks like I’ve already got mine.”

The scuffle broke out.

Sam acted first, trying to reach for Valie at the quickest of speeds, but two Vamps were on him without hesitation. In no time at all, a dozen Vampyres had risen to the occasion to brawl with the Lycans they barely tolerated. One Vampyre hefted a table, throwing it into the mass of Lycans. Unfortunately for him, however, the piece only glanced two of the Lycanthropes who then heaved it aloft between them and slammed it down on top of their assailant, crushing him with an audible
crunch
. Once tables were upturned, the wooden legs began to be cracked off in splintering pieces in order to be used as makeshift stakes. Vampyre and Lycanthrope blood alike began to dampen the barroom floor. Many of the crowd from the concert had either joined the fight or taken to standing on the unbroken tables for a better view and to cheer on the fighters. A couple of the band members—seeing their spotlight stolen—wielded their instruments as instruments of chaos rather than music and began battering any Lycan they saw. The members of the pack were outnumbered. However, they were holding their ground.

With the wolves preoccupied, Fen was free to pull Valie away from the fray to an empty space near the bar. Most of the Lycans seemed to have forgotten about the motivation behind the brawl, or perhaps Valie’s plight had only been the last straw in the ever-increasing tension between the two races. In either case, she was forgotten and she was alone. 

The young girl whimpered, her mind reeling with the danger, but she now found herself paralyzed, unable to react. All she could do was stare at the pale, pock-marked face, which inched its way toward her neck as the Vampyre savored the moment. Slowly, he sniffed her, as if she were a bed of roses, his cold nose tracing her jugular. The raucous room was suddenly silenced by the pounding of Valie’s heart.

Valie tried to scream, tried to pull away, but the drug-dazed girl couldn’t fight the Vampyre; he was too strong. A sinister smile spread across the dead one’s face. His head reared back, while he gazed eagerly at her throat. She closed her eyes, hoping it would be over quickly.

With an electrifying
crack
, Fen’s skull unexpectedly smashed down onto the counter, making every glass for ten feet in either direction spill over. The surrounding scuffles subsided at the sound.

Valie opened her frightened eyes to find Jack holding the Vampyre’s head against the wood, his knuckles white with fury. Fen snarled his displeasure.

“Release her,” Jack growled, but Fen’s cold hand did not relinquish its hold on Valie’s arm. Jack raised and shoved the Vampyre’s head against the counter again, nearly roaring as he did so. When Fen still did not react, Jack reached with his other hand for a piece of broken glass, stabbing it into Fen’s open palm on the counter.

The Vampyre let out a furious shriek.

Fen let go.

The girl was immediately jerked away into the protective embrace of Shane, though, still in a panic, she tried to wrench herself free. 

“Valie! Valentine! Stop it!” Finally recognizing the she-wolf’s voice, Valie’s thrashings began to subside. “You’re okay. Geez. What did you drink, girl?”

Valie’s eyes were wide, but her breathing began to slow. Her speech center still paralyzed, the girl could only manage to look at the bartender, who merely shrugged. 

“It’s called a double-sunset,” he said benignly. 

Max, who had come to stand close behind Shane, inhaled sharply. “You gave her a double-sunset?” Self-consciously she looked around and then lowered her voice, “Joe! How many times do I have to tell you
not
to serve humans Vampyre drinks?”

“How was
I
supposed to know she was only human? She’s with the Lycans, isn’t she? Besides, Keys ordered it. Blame him.”

“This
is
your
fault,” she hissed back at the man. She then turned to Keys. “And I’ve told you before that it’s dangerous to drink that stuff! You don’t understand the effects it can have!”

Jack quickly interjected. “I don’t care whose fault it is,” he seethed, “What does the damn drink do?” He was still holding Fen’s head to the counter, and the Vampyre was beginning to protest again. Jack tightened his grip and warned, “Move again and I will break your neck long before you could
ever
reach mine.”

“For
Vampyres
,” Max began, spitting out the word. “It simulates the sensation of the euphoria experienced when we feed. It
can
do the same thing for human, like intensify good feelings. But for. . .others,” she continued, trying to be vague when referring to the half-blood girl. “Unfortunately, there is the possibility of a stronger opposite effect—intensifying negative emotions in a more dramatic way—anger, fear, sadness. Whatever the brain keys in on simply can’t be controlled. Some very nice, happy people have been known to commit suicide over a simple thing like losing a pet, or commit murder for something like getting shortchanged at the checkout.  It’s extremely negligent to serve
anyone
double-sunset unless they’re a Vampyre.” Max glared at Joe, who turned his back and tried to appear very intent in his work.

“Wonderful,” Jack muttered to himself. He gazed around the quieting room. Bale was breaking up the few remaining skirmishes while the majority of the participants were licking their wounds. A few lifeless Vampyres lay strewn about the room, but no one else seemed harmed. Ash DeVaine was escorting the bystanders outside, apologizing for the disturbance and wishing them a good night.

Satisfied that the situation was now under control, Jack concentrated on Valie. Her eyes were lazy, bloodshot, and somewhat glazed over—her pupils unevenly dilated. And she was still uncontrollably shaking. He spoke matter-of-factly to Max, who was cooling off somewhat, though the worry lines in her forehead showed she was distressed by the circumstance.

“How long do the effects of this double-sunset thing last?”

“For Vampyres, about three hours. It can last a lot longer in humans. But I’ve never heard of it lasting more than twelve. You’ve just got to get her through the night.”

“Is there something that can help—an antidote of some kind—anything that would counteract its effects?” Jack did not want to think about putting Valie on a suicide watch, even for a limited amount of time.

Maxine remained silent for some time, considering Jack’s question, before she responded, “You’ll have to go to my brother. I honestly don’t know if he’s encounter an antidote, but if anyone would know, it would be Jericho.”

Noah spoke up, “Jack, we should help clean this up. It’s partly my fault. I never should have let Valie drink anything while we were here. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No. You weren’t,” Jack growled, but he forced himself to soften his tone and add, “It’s okay. I should have had Shane go with you. She’s more familiar with the. . .
people
here. But you are right. You and Shane stay and help Max with some of this mess and—where’s Keys?”

Still shaking from the bar fight—during which he had jumped behind the bar to hide—Keys rose to his feet beside the bartender, Joe.

“P-present a-and accounted for,” he stuttered.

“Good. You’re staying, too. From what Noah managed to tell me, this is as much your fault as anyone’s.”

The boy—who was obviously intimidated by the older Lycan—nodded without hesitation.

Jack looked at Valie as she rocked quietly back and forth on her feet while clutching herself securely in her own arms. Incoherently, she was singing something. Shane watched her carefully, ready to hold the girl down if the need arose. Jack took a deep breath.

“Okay. We’ll see you at Jericho’s. Be careful.”

He walked over to Shane and took Valie from her watch. For once, Shane said nothing. 

As they wound their way through the shattered glass, spilled liquid and splintered wood, Jack met Sam’s gaze. The gray-haired Lycan was tending to what looked like a gouged eye on Marcum who was swearing like a sailor any time his pack-mate touched him.

“Initiation celebration tomorrow, brother,” Sam said simply.
“At the meeting site. Don’t be too late.”

The younger Lycan nodded, though his brow furrowed in worry. How much longer could he keep up his charade? When would the pack learn of his betrayal? How would they react if they knew they had just risked their lives and honor over a real half-blood?

“Valie?” Jack murmured. He took both of her hands in his own and held them tightly. She looked up at him, at first like a crazy person who was ready to explode; but, then she was herself and looked at him with only apprehension in her eyes. 

As quickly as possible, he led her out of the club.

“Have a good night,” Bale rumbled as Jack and Valie walked toward the car. Valie jumped at the sound.

“Sweets?
How do you feel?” Jack inquired, trying to keep her distracted. He hadn’t heard her speak yet.

“Like a druggy,” she stammered tremulously. Her head shot around in the direction of a loud crash—a scrounging cat had turned over an empty garbage can. 

Protectively, Jack slid an arm around her shoulders and kept her moving on her feet. “And how would you know that feeling precisely?” he chuckled.

Valie scowled, but leaned heavily into his body. “You know what I
mean. . .and now
I
know what I mean.”

Jack opened the passenger door of the BMW, securing Valie inside. He ran around to the driver’s side, jumped in and rolled down all the windows—only then did he start the engine.

One couldn’t be too careful when one had a reactive, claustrophobic human on intense Vampyre drugs
, Jack thought as he settled Valie inside of the car and wheeled it out of the parking lot.

To compensate for the freezing rain blowing inside all the windows, Jack had the heater going full blast as he steered the BMW toward the emptying
Seattle streets. Valie just quietly watched as the raindrops on the windshield changed color with the street lights. She started trying to count the drops as they splattered the windshield, before they could be wiped away. There were so many she could never get very far and frustration began to slowly well inside of her.

“Valie?”
Once again, Jack tried to divert her attention so that her thoughts never focused for too long on any one thing and that voice always brought her back to the moment.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

Valie thought for a split second, her mind was working too fast, her interest drawn by haphazard things.

“I don’t know. My body kind of feels like it’s weighed down, but my mind is working at lightening speed. I have this need to
focus
on something and then, when I do, everything else kind of fades away.”

“And earlier in the club?
How did you feel then?” Jack asked this gently, cautious of sending her off into a tailspin with the unpleasant memory.

But Valie didn’t flinch at the memory of it. Her entire being was overtaken by a euphoric sense of comfort. She looked at her hands which were glowing—indeed, the whole car seemed to radiate with warmth.

She smiled and sighed. “I’m just happy we’re out of there and it’s over. I was scared, but that’s pretty standard nowadays. Scared of Alden. Scared of the future. Scared of my father, of death, of Lycans, of Vampyres. . . .” A red stoplight captured her attention and she broke off from her thought to examine it with growing interest.

“Valie?”

“Hmm?”

Jack sighed. “I’m not quite sure it’s over,” he muttered. He reached over and tucked a strand of Valie’s wet hair behind her ear, making the teenager blush.

The stoplight turned green.

The car shot forward, and Valie was aware of nothing but Jack.  Her body was longing for him, a physical sensation which began in the very core of her being and warmed her down to her toes. The intensity of her feelings was overwhelming. But at the same time, true fear set in—the fear of losing all con
trol, the fear of giving up herself to him.

With what little self-control she could maintain, she turned to stare out her window. Suddenly, though, all she could think about was Jack, and each thought brought such vivid sensations--his touch, his hair, his lips, his eyes. And now his scent was in her nostrils, feeding the flames of desire.