Darkling

With a loud yip, Morio raked his claws down the man's chest, gutting him wide. Delilah, who'd been watching from where she was guarding Chase, leapt forward and thrust her stake into the exposed heart. The vamp twitched, then vanished, ashes like the rest.



Morio turned to Camille and in a voice that echoed through the chamber, asked, "Are you all right?"



"I'm fine. He didn't manage to hurt me," she said, gazing up at him. "But you're injured."



As he slowly shifted back into his human form, Morio shook his head and picked up his bag, slinging it back over his shoulder. "I'll be all right. It's barely a scratch." He glanced at the gashes showing through the ripped clothing. "Don't worry about me."



The fight over, I glanced around the room. The other two doors caught my eye. Two more chances for vamps to be lurking, waiting for us. The smell of blood hung heavy, but I was still so impressed by Morio's transformation that I barely noticed. However if there were other vamps here, it would draw them to us for sure.



"Be careful—your wound is as good as a beacon—" I started to say, but one of the side chamber doors slammed open and two more bloodsuckers came through. "Bingo!" I rushed forward, along with Roz and we spun into action.



This time the fight was pretty much one-sided. Camille cast a blinding light spell in the room, which backfired in a sense that instead of a globe in the center of the air, the light shot out from her eyes, effectively eliminating her ability to fight. But Roz and I managed to take down the two vamps before the others could move in. The illumination flared and sputtered out to dwindle back into darkness.



"Hell. I felt like a Roman candle," she said, blinking.



"You looked like one, too," I said. "Any damage?"



She swallowed, then coughed. "My throat feels like I just chugged a bottle of Johnnie Walker, but otherwise I think I'm okay."



Morio let out a snort, arching his eyebrows as she glared at him. "Don't blame me. You know that was funny," he said, but she held up a hand.



"Shut up. I hear something." She raced to the other door and swung it wide before I could stop her. "Erin! I found Erin!"



I darted into the room, glancing around to make sure we were alone. Delilah was right behind me, and the boys behind her.



Erin was bound on the floor, her flannel shirt nowhere to be seen. So butch in the outer world, here she looked terribly frail and terribly hurt. Blood splattered the room. It looked like the newborns had been feeding off of her. The scent of fear hung heavy in the air, and my fangs automatically extended, the hunger churning like an ocean wave.



Camille knelt by her and felt for her pulse. She looked up, ashen. "She's dying. She's not going to make it. Even if we manage to miraculously get an ambulance here in five minutes, they won't be able to give her blood fast enough." Her eyes flashed. "I want them dead. All of them!"



I slowly joined her, crouching to stare at Erin's lifeless form. She wasn't gone yet. There was still a flutter of breath in her struggling lungs, but Camille was right. She was going to die.



Camille turned to me. "You can save her," she said.



"What? How? Even I can't get her to a hospital fast enough." Confused, I glanced around at the others. Roz and Morio had knowing looks on their faces, but Chase pulled a blank stare.



"You can," Delilah said, dropping by Erin's other side. "You can save her, Menolly. You have to—she didn't ask to die. She doesn't want to die."



And then, staring at my sisters, I knew what they were asking. "What? You can't mean it! You can't tell me you want me to turn her?" I leapt up and strode over to Roz's side. "I can't believe you'd ask me to do something I find so repulsive."



Camille gently laid Erin's head in Delilah's lap. She stood, eyes blazing, hands on hips. "What happened to you is totally different. You were tortured with every vile act Dredge could think of. Erin's been used as a feeding station, but she doesn't look scarred. And she didn't ask to be put in this position. Don't you get it? She's going to die if you don't do something now."



I stared at Erin's lifeless form. "People die, Camille. People live and they die. It's the way of the world."



"It doesn't have to happen," Delilah chimed in. "She doesn't have to be like those newborns. Look at Wade and Sassy—look at you! You're different. You choose to be different. You can help Erin from the beginning."



"Remember what Grandmother Coyote said?" Camille cocked her head. "Remember what she said at the meeting? You're going to have to do something you don't want to do. But I'll know it's right. And this is it. Turning Erin into a vampire is the right thing to do."



Frantic, I glanced at Morio for support. "Tell her she's wrong. This is just her desire to keep Erin alive talking."



Morio shook his head. "If Grandmother Coyote foretold this, then I have to back up Camille. Grandmother Coyote never says anything she doesn't mean."



Camille yanked me around, ignoring my hiss. "Trust me. Erin has a part to play in the future. You have to make sure she's around to do it. Turn her, damn it! You don't have to like it, you don't have to approve of it, but you have to do it."



She was so fierce that I almost feared her. I struggled with my conscience. What had Grandmother Coyote said?



"Menolly, you're going to have to do something you have vowed never to do. When the time comes, you'll know what it is, and you'll balk. But do it you must, regardless of your aversion to the idea. A long thread of destiny hinges upon your action… or inaction. Don't fail me. If you shy away, you'll upset a critical balance."



Was this it? Was raising Erin into the world of the undead what she'd meant?



I held very still, searching within, looking deep into my core, deep within my soul. The day I regained my sanity, I swore I'd never sire another vampire, never add to the host of demons raised from unwilling victims.



And yet… if Grandmother Coyote was right—if Camille and Delilah were right—had fate singled Erin out for transformation? And if someone was to sire her, who better than me? I could give her what few other sires would: guidance, a conscience, and care. I could usher her into her new life, cushioning the shock that usually accompanied the change. Was this the path to take?



"Hurry—she's almost dead," Delilah said.



Camille leapt toward me and grabbed me by the wrist. "Do this, do it now, or I swear I'll fucking sic the Moon Mother on you, Menolly. Trust me—it's more than just my friendship with her talking. I know Erin has to live, and this is the only way she can!"



Delilah let out a squeak and I saw her begin to shift. Both furious and frightened, I said, "Shit! Delilah, hang on, baby. Oh fuck. Camille, get hold of Delilah. Help her calm down so she can shift back. I'll do it, all right? I'll sire Erin. But don't you ever threaten me like that again."



Saying nothing, Camille rushed over to scoop up our golden tabby sister while I flew to Erin's side. Quickly, without thinking, I leaned down and drank from the bloody mess that was her neck. She'd have a scar all right, but it wouldn't be too bad. As soon as her blood went down my throat in that warm, luxurious flow, I held up my wrist and flicked a vein open with one nail. As the drops began to dribble out, I pressed them to Erin's lips.



"Erin, it's Menolly. You have to drink if you want to survive. If you don't drink my blood, you're going to die." I held her in one arm like a baby, my wrist pressed to her mouth. She opened her eyes and blinked as she tried to focus on me. "Honey, listen to me. This is your choice. If you drink, I'll sire you and take care of you as you go through the change. I'll teach you how to control the thirst. You don't have to become a monster. But if you'd rather let go, then I won't force you. It's all up to you."



Camille caught Delilah and held her, watching us. Roz, Morio, and Chase stood guard by the door. Chase looked queasy, but he didn't say a word.



"Erin, please drink," Camille said. She shoved Delilah into Chase's arms and knelt on the other side of Erin. "We need you. The world needs you. Destiny has plans for you. If you don't do this, it could mess up the future. Grandmother Coyote warned us about this moment."



Erin's gaze fastened on mine. She opened her lips. They were so dry they cracked and bled. "Do you… do you promise to watch over me? Do you promise to kill me if I do anything horrible? I won't become like them." She spat out the word, and I knew she was talking about the newborns.



"I promise you with my heart and soul. If you drink, I'll guide you every step of the way. I won't let you turn into a nightmare." What the hell was I letting myself in for? I didn't know, but the moment I'd offered her the chance, every fiber of my heart told me this was the right decision.



With a flutter of breath—a very small flutter, she was on the edge of death—Erin opened her lips. "I'll drink."



I pressed my wrist to her mouth. "Suck as hard as you can. You only need a few drops to seal the pact, but drink as much as you can. It will make the transition easier."



As she began to lick up the blood flowing from my vein, I closed my eyes against the competing tides within me. Every shred of my ethics told me to stop, to let her go peacefully to her ancestors. And yet my intuition told me to let her drink, to sire her, raise her, and make sure she lived.



Surprisingly strong, Erin managed to drink about a quarter cup of my blood before she suddenly gasped, convulsed in my arms, and then went limp.



"Is she dead? I thought you were siring her!" Camille stared at me, her voice spiraling against the walls.



I looked at her. As much as I loved my sister, I wanted to smack her a good one, but I resisted, trying to remember that she was upset and didn't fully understand the process.



"Oh, she's going to change," I said. "It's simply a matter of time, now."



"What do we do until then?"



I glanced over at Chase, who was petting Delilah. She began to shimmer and I coughed. "Johnson, better put Kitten down, she's ready to shift back."



Standing, I dusted my hands on my pants and turned back to Camille. "It's simple. We wait. So cool your jets and pull up a chair. And, by the way, we need food for her—she's going to be ravenous. Unless one of you wants to play blood bank, we're going to need a donor."



Roz grinned. "I can find someone. I know the drill, even if I don't wade in the pool." Before I could speak, he slipped out of the door, leaving the rest of us sitting in silence.



CHAPTER 18



Having never sired a vampire, I wasn't entirely clear on the process myself, but I was damned certain it would go easier than my own rebirth.



The shock of opening my eyes, of believing I was still alive, had been bad enough. But the suffocating inability to catch my breath had been even more frightening. Then came the dawning realization that yes, I was dead, I just hadn't been allowed to cross over. And that's when the madness began to set in, as did the hunger. At least Erin had made her own choice. Hopefully she wouldn't regret her decision.



I glanced around the room. There were a few cushions, some heavy drapes that were being used as a floor cover. "Those curtains. Someone gather them and make a bed. Cover those blood-soaked cushions with them, and set the whole thing in the center of the room."



Morio and Chase set things up while Delilah and Camille rooted through the bunker in search of anything that might help us. "All of you, stay well out of Erin's reach. Especially you, Chase. She's going to wake up confused and ravenous. The hunger will be so bad that she'll be ready to attack anybody nearby."



The jangle of my cell phone suddenly cut through the muffled hush of the nest and I yanked it out, wondering who the hell could be calling me. I'd warned Chrysandra that I'd be out of touch for a night or so, and not many other people besides my sisters had my number. I glanced at the caller ID. Iris. Oh shit, what was wrong?



I flipped it open. "Iris, what's up?"



The static was horrible. I hurried outside, onto the steps, where the signal strengthened. "Hurry it up. I'm in a dicey situation here. What's wrong?"



Iris took a deep breath. "I know you are. Roz is here and he wants to talk to you. And another thing—Trillian just returned from OW." Something in her voice made me wary.



"What's wrong?"



"He's been hurt. He was shot by one of Lethesanar's archers."



Holy crap. Had she called me so I could cushion the blow for Camille? Was Trillian dead? I suddenly found myself whispering a silent prayer that my sister's love-bunny was okay. "Tell me."



"He'll live, but he's lost a lot of blood. He's not going anywhere for a while. So don't count on him coming to help you tonight. His shoulder is pretty mangled. I've called Sharah to come out with a medic kit so she can work on him." Iris sounded rushed. "She'll be here any minute. Meanwhile, here's Roz."



"Put him on." I decided to wait on telling Camille about Trillian. If she wasn't worrying about him, she'd pay more attention to what we were doing. And since Iris said he'd live, there was no real urgency.



Roz took the phone. "I found a volunteer. I don't have that internal guidance system you do in picking out perverts—at least not the kind you're looking for. And I didn't want to risk somebody innocent, since Erin's going to wake up ravenous."



"Then who did you find? And how the hell did you get out to our house so fast? You don't drive, do you?"