Warrior Rising Read online

  “Have you been burned or blinded by this artificial sunlight?”

  Sorin shook his head. “Not yet.”

  To business. She did not care if Sorin had been burned or not, so she wasn’t sure why she’d asked. “Is Nevada’s family still here?”

  “Yes. The smell is too strong to be a lingering one. They are here.”

  He sat, his attractive face lit by bright colored flashing lights from the window before them. For a moment, she wondered where he’d come from, when he’d been turned. Viking she would guess, given his build and coloring, but it was impossible to be sure. She was tall and blond herself, and she was not Viking.

  And again, she did not care.

  “Are you going inside?” she asked, as she tried to figure out how to open the door. Her eyes went to his hands. When he opened his door, she’d know how to open her own. She would not ask; she would not admit that she was effectively stuck in this vehicle.

  “I’m thinking about how I might speak to them without getting burned.”

  “Considering what you’ve told me, that might be impossible.”

  “I’m aware,” he said in a lowered voice.

  “Come,” she said in a strong voice. “If I must, I will protect you.”

  He evidently found her offer funny. His laugh was harsh, as he reached for a recessed handle all but hidden in the door and pulled upon it. She did the same, then reached into the back seat for her sword. She probably would not need it, but she would not trust her life, or the life of the humans here, to a probably.

  Sorin did not collect his weapon from the rear seat of the vehicle, even though the long black leather coat he wore would’ve concealed it well enough. Why did he continue to wear the leather? He did not need to be warmed, and it wasn’t as if many others weren’t carrying weapons at this stage of the game. He slammed the car door, and she copied his action, hefting the sword in her right hand as she took long steps toward the glass doors straight ahead.

  He looked at her weapon and held up a hand to stop her. “I’m grateful for the offer of protection, I truly am, but don’t hurt anyone in there. Odds are I’ll survive any injuries I sustain. If I’m lucky, I can deliver Nevada’s message before they hit me with a dose of that light.”

  Sorin could leave without speaking to Nevada’s family; he could toss a note tied to a rock through the glass window. He showed no indication of doing either of those cowardly things. She asked, “Why do you care so much about delivering the witch’s message?”

  The question annoyed him. “I have a debt to pay. Can we leave it at that?”

  “Of course.” She tried to see inside the building. Even with all the glass, it was difficult. Bright lights shone in the windows, but beyond all was dark. “Your conveyance is quite loud. I suspect the humans inside realize we are here.”

  “Yes, I suspect so.”

  “They are likely terrified of you.”

  “Likely.”

  “Trust me, and do not move.” She swung her sword around so fast it was a blur. Surprisingly, Sorin did as she’d instructed and remained in place. The blade of her sword rested against his throat.

  “Family of the witch,” she called in a voice loud enough to carry. “We come to you with a message from Nevada. This vampire has sworn not to harm you, but for your peace of mind I will keep my sword at the ready.”

  A man came to the glass door, turned a key in the lock, and opened the door. “Is Nevada all right?”

  “Yes,” Sorin said. “May we come inside and talk?”

  The man — Nevada’s father, almost certainly — looked at Indikaiya. “As if I would invite two vampires into what has become my home.”

  Indikaiya was insulted, and that insult was evident in her voice as she responded. “I am not a vampire.”

  The man looked her up and down. “What the hell are you, then?”

  She glanced toward Sorin. “Why does he not think me human?”

  “The clothes. The sword. Maybe he has some magic like his daughter and can see that you are not like him.”

  He looked to the man in the doorway. “She is not a vampire. She’s a Warrior here to fight for humans. For you. We do not need to come inside. Nevada wants you to know that she’s all right, and she wants you to be aware of what’s going on.”

  “We’ve been watching the news.”

  “The news,” Sorin said lightly, “where half of what you hear is true and half is not and it’s impossible to know which is which.”

  “I’ve seen enough to know what you’re trying to do.”

  Sorin shifted his weight. He clenched and unclenched his fists. It was obvious he was impatient to have this chore done. “A lot’s happening, and D.C. is going to be one of the world’s hot spots. Get out while you can. Travel by daylight and stay in the sun. Take the tanning lights with you, if that is possible. When you get to where you’re going and have power, they will make fine weapons. Get out of the city, and find an isolated place to lay low until this is over.”

  “Will it be over?” the man asked, almost wistfully.

  “Eventually.”

  Nevada’s father did not relax. Behind him, Indikaiya saw three other figures in the shadows. “Why are you here?” the man snapped. “You did this. You were working for the other side a few days ago. You threatened us, and you threatened my daughter. Why should I believe you now?”

  “Believe me or don’t,” Sorin said, and then he moved. He shifted — a blur and nothing more — away from her sword so quickly, Indikaiya had no chance to follow. He could have removed himself from the threat of her blade at any time. The man in the doorway had never truly been safe.

  Sorin returned to the car. He started the annoyingly loud engine.

  “I cannot answer your questions,” Indikaiya said to the human who looked as surprised as she felt. “I cannot tell you why, but I do know that Nevada trusts him. The message he has delivered is a true one, it comes from your daughter’s lips. You have my word.”

  She saw such pain on his face, such longing and distress. “When will she join us? If we go far away, if we find a secluded place to hide out until this is over, if it ever is over, how will she find us?”

  “That is a problem for another time,” Indikaiya answered pragmatically.

  With that, she returned to the blasted car and opened the door. She slid into the seat, then carefully placed her sword in the rear seating area.

  “Now what?” she asked as the conveyance got underway. “We have many hours still until dawn.” And Sorin’s dreaded daylight.

  “I don’t know about you, but I feel like killing some vampires.”

  She caressed the smooth grip of the knife at her right hip. “That is a fine idea.”

  * * *

  Sorin drove toward the center of town. He knew D.C. well. He had walked, driven, and flown into all corners.

  “Have we a plan?” the Warrior asked from the passenger seat.

  “Council headquarters, in Georgetown,” he answered simply. “Even if the Council members themselves have fled the city, as I expect they might’ve, others might flock there.” Maybe even Marie, who’d been a Council member herself and would know the place well. With the sanctuary spell back in place, her options were limited. Not that he didn’t think she had her own hideouts in this town she’d called home for so long. Still, she might be back at headquarters. If he could kill her, if he could remove the leader of this revolution…

  Unfortunately, she would not be easy to kill. Blood-born power hungry psycho that she was.

  If he could get some of her followers, if he could kill more of her soldiers — old and new, strong and weak — he could hurt her.

  “We need to get you some new clothes,” he said as he turned down a deserted street. There were too many deserted streets for this hour of the night in this city. People were fleeing, or staying in what they believed to be safe places.

  “Why? My tunic is comfortable and offers freedom of movement.”


  “You don’t blend in.”

  “Why should I wish to blend in?”

  She was stubborn, and full of questions. He didn’t need her beside him as he fought, didn’t need the distraction. And yet, he did not once think of putting her out of the car and going on alone. “Humans will be on alert for anyone different. I’d hate for you to be mistaken for a vampire who never moved on, fashion wise, by a frantic human with a gun or a sword or a grenade.” He looked to the woman who rode beside him. “What happens if you die?”

  For a long minute or two, he thought she would not answer. Then she said, “I would return to my world, my home.”

  “Handy. Could you come back?”

  “Only if I’m called by a blood descendant.” She turned her head and looked at the city flying past. “Chloe can no longer call, as she is no longer human. I could not locate another receptive blood relative when I was speaking to her, so I would likely have to wait until called for the next battle. That can only happen if the human race survives, and a descendant has the gift of hearing.”

  “Do you have a lot of descendants?”

  “Quite a number, but not many with the ability to serve as conduit.”

  He tried to imagine Indikaiya as human. Obviously she had been a soldier in her time, but also obviously she’d had children. Otherwise, there would be no descendants to hear her call. She had not always been a woman who knew nothing but the sword.

  “Where were you, when you lived in this world?” Like it or not, he wanted to know. He wanted to be able to imagine her as a human, in her place, her time.

  “Why does that matter?”

  “It doesn’t. I’m just curious.”

  “Where were you, when you were human?” she asked.

  “Romania.” He didn’t often talk about that place. It was so long ago, that time seemed almost like a dream. “I was a farmer and a soldier. A husband and a father.” That had been a simple time, and he had been a different person.

  “How long have you been… what you are?”

  Her distaste for what he was was evident in her tone, but he did not take offense. “Seven hundred years or so. Your turn.”

  There was a long pause. Maybe she’d answer; maybe she would not. He supposed it didn’t matter, but he was curious.

  Soon they’d reach Council headquarters. If it was deserted, they’d keep looking. He didn’t think it would be deserted. When they left this car their attentions would have to turn to war. There was no time for curiosity in battle.

  As he pulled to the curb and parked, Indikaiya said, “Atlantis. I lived in Atlantis before my death in battle.”

  “No shit!” He actually smiled. “I thought Atlantis was just a myth.”

  She caught his gaze and held it, something very few were brave enough to do. “The world thought the same about your kind, until a few days ago.”

  “True enough.” He laughed. “Man, you’re old.”

  “Is that an insult or an observation?”

  “Observation.” He would love to sit down for a long conversation with her about her home. What had happened to Atlantis? Who had she done battle with? “At a mere seven hundred years old, I feel like a kid again.”

  He stepped into the night. The street was eerily deserted, unnaturally quiet. And yet he knew they were not alone. “Let’s go kick some vampire ass.”

  If he died in the process? That was more than possible, it was damned likely. And if a final death came to him, he wouldn’t wake up in another world to another life. No reincarnation, no warrior’s reward, and certainly no heaven. Not for him or for any of those he planned to send from this world tonight.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Indikaiya was more than ready to remove a few vampires from this world they had been foolish enough to invade. She was anxious, eager, having gone too long without a battle.

  Time moved differently in her world than it did in this one. Years for a human might pass in days for the Warriors. Time was fluid, uncertain, moving at a pace determined by the need for Warriors in this world. But time did pass. As she waited to be called she trained; she painted; she studied and she watched. The training was necessary, and she threw herself into it wholeheartedly, even though practicing swordplay could not hold a candle to an actual battle. She painted landscapes more than anything else, though on occasion she had tried to capture the faces of her children from memory. Painting was a hobby. She wasn’t very good, but there was something about putting a paint-filled brush to canvas that was soothing. And frustrating, when the results were not pleasing. She was a bit impatient, with herself more than with anyone else.

  It had never been her habit to spy on her descendants for purposes of amusement or curiosity, but she did watch over them, on occasion. She had seen Chloe as a child, and again as a teenager. She had watched over her descendant when she’d been in the hospital, after the car wreck that had revealed her aneurysm. There were other descendants, those who had not been able to see or hear her when the time had come, and she had looked in on most of them a time or two during their lives.

  It had been easier to keep watch when only her daughters had still lived, but it had also been painful. Her love for them had been so fresh, and she had been so sad and angry that she could not be there to see them grow, to see them become fine women and mothers. There had been more of her blood descendants to spy upon when her daughters’ children and then their grandchildren had come into the world. That had been less painful, since the bonds were so distant. She had not held them as infants, fed them from her breasts, protected them night and day. From there, the number of descendants had grown. They had spread out, moving to all corners of the world. Over time some lines had died out, but most had survived and a few had thrived.

  Those Warriors who watched their descendants more diligently than she had were more well-versed in modern ways and language. Indikaiya knew enough to get by, but she was too often confused — even lost — in a world which had grown and changed so very quickly.

  Sorin was like her in that way. He was a part of this world, he lived and moved within it, but on rare occasions she saw the age in him, the years that had passed. In an out of place phrase or a too-formal and old-fashioned gesture, he gave himself away. He was no more of this time than she was.

  The building Sorin approached was red brick, sporting more than its share of ivy. The windows were shuttered. Though some lights shone along this quiet street, the Council building was dark. At first glance it appeared to be lifeless. Her instincts warned her not to approach. Was that truly an instinct that sensed the darkness of the place, or did some kind of vampire magic meant to keep the unwanted away surround the building? She should be immune to such unnatural magic. Surely it was nothing more than her own good instincts that warned her to stay away.

  She scoffed, silently. Even if the building was filled with vampires, it could be deemed lifeless. They were an abomination, not life at all. They were walking dead things.

  She glanced at Sorin and frowned. The few vampires she had met since Chloe had called her into this world were making her question her knowledge of the bloodsuckers. Was it truly possible that vampires were no different from humans in that some were good while others were evil? How could a being whose sustenance came from the blood of others be considered good in any way?

  Again, gray. She preferred her battles to be black and white, but looking back — were they ever?

  Sorin stepped to the massive double doors of the red brick building, turned to her and said, “Wait here.”

  “I will not,” Indikaiya answered.

  For the first time, she saw his anger. Fangs, glowing blue eyes… and she could swear that his already broad shoulders grew broader, that he grew impossible taller. Instinctively she took a step back. She recovered quickly and moved back toward him. In the distance, she heard faint gunfire. Someone somewhere had joined in a battle in his city under siege. Soldiers from this time? Law enforcement? An armed citizen?

  “If you ar
e attempting to glamour me, save your strength,” she said. “I am immune to your… charms.”

  In an instant he shifted back to the Sorin she knew. “I only want to make certain it is safe for you. There are two of us. If Council headquarters is teeming with Marie’s soldiers, we won’t make it out alive. I have a chance, if word that I betrayed Marie has not spread too widely. You, on the other hand, will be attacked on the spot.”

  “I can defend myself,” she argued.

  “Against a dozen panicked vampires?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was strong and certain, even as her stomach turned at the thought.

  “A hundred?” he offered in a lowered voice.

  She was brave, but she was no fool. “As you wish, then.”

  His head turned toward the next round of gunfire. It seemed to be closer than the last.

  * * *

  “You are a powerful witch,” Rurik said.

  Nevada sat on the top step of the stairway which was just a few steps beyond her bedroom door, her feet on the step below, hands clenched in her lap. Rurik stood behind her. He was often close, she had noticed, nearby more often than any of the other Warriors.

  Just a coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.

  “I suppose,” she said softly.

  “Be proud of your abilities,” Rurik insisted.

  He moved around her, and she scooted over a few inches to allow him to pass. Instead of walking past and down the stairs, he lowered himself to sit beside her. Rurik was a big guy, so it was a tight fit. Not that she minded.

  “The sanctuary spell has been reinstated,” he continued, “and you managed to make a talisman that will allow Luca to be remembered. That was no easy feat. Everyone is impressed.”

  “He’s wearing the ring, but I don’t think he likes it much.” She couldn’t believe she’d met a vampire like that before and didn’t remember! That was some seriously powerful magic.