Death's Servant

"What?" The question leaks past my shock-parched lips, quiet enough to be more of a whisper. Fear squeezes my heart as my muscles tense. "You don't plan on...?" I trail off, afraid to voice my inner fear that she may not stop her killing spree with just the vampires.



"Worried I'll hurt the wolves?" she asks, a twinge of annoyance on her pale as porcelain face. "Now really, Jon. What kind of help would I be if I intended to kill the wolves? Anyone with some accelerant and a lighter could've done that ages ago by burning this whole place to the ground."



I turn to face her, confusion spilling out of me. "Well, then...?"



She reaches out one pale hand, cupping my cheek with a delicate touch. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to save Raine." Her eyes dart to the group of skinny huddled bodies outside of the building that held me hostage a week ago. "I plan on helping as many of the wolves as I can, trust me. I would've never accepted your offer otherwise."



She drops her hand and strides to the ragged pack of Weres. I trail behind her, unsure what she's got planned. She stops ten feet from a stooped man with matted hair and a scraggly beard, who huddles over the emaciated form of an equally dirty woman. Dria angles her head my way, her voice coming out low, for my ears only. "The night is not over, Jon. Not by a long shot. Sure, the worst of the hell is past, but we've got hours more ahead of us." Her eyes flick behind us to the empty mansion. "Rafe will be here soon. We'll be burning this place to the ground-he'll start on getting it prepped." She motions with her chin toward the couple. "I think those are the alphas. I need to talk with them before proceeding with the next stage of my plan." Her serious stare drills into mine. "I need you by my side. Are you up for it?"



Resolve stiffens my spine. I may not have been able to save Raine, but I will follow through with my promise to this deadly creature.



Her eyes sharpen while she stares at me. "Well?"



"You can count on me, Dria."



After a small nod she approaches the couple, crouching down to their level on the ground. "Are you the alphas of this pack?"



The man nods, his hand coming up to rest on his wife's shoulder. "Yes. I'm Cliff and this is my wife, Kristin. Are you the one responsible for the end of our hell?"



A Were rushes forward with two pitchers of water and another hands a cup to each of the shrunken alphas. Dria hesitates in answering, letting the two drink their fill before continuing the conversation.



The scent drifting up from the water tells me it contains the same additives that healed me after I was drained by Cecil and his fellow addicts. I doubt one pitcher will bring these two back to anything close to resembling good health, but it's a start in the right direction.



The sound of tires on gravel drifts to us from the side of the mansion, pulling the rag tag group of victim's attention toward the noise. The tension spilling off a few of them has me stepping forward to reassure them. "It's not another vampire. The new arrival is a human here to help." I motion toward Dria. "Just like she is."



Cliff and Kristin manage to stand after drinking the entire pitcher, the proud bearing of their former leadership shining through the dirt and grime. Kristin steps forward first, her right hand extended in gratitude toward the vampire. "Thank you."



Dria steps back deferring the credit to me with a wave of her arm. "I never would have come if it wasn't for Jon. He's the one you need to thank."



Cliff steps up next to his wife. "From what the other Weres have reported, it's your strength and... skill, that saved us."



Dria looks uncomfortable at the gratitude and steers the conversation in another direction. "Cliff, we need to talk about your wolves."



The tall, thin man looks around at his tattered pack of skinny werewolves. "Yes? What about them?"



Rafe's approach from behind draws her focus away for a moment. The couple stares intently at one another for a moment, and then Rafe nods sharply. More of that silent communication I suspect is happening between the two, I bet. I'd like to know what the hell they were discussing.



Kristin speaks up, brushing her wildly unkempt and dirty hair from her eyes. "Is there something you wanted to say...Miss...?



Dria returns her attention to the alphas. "Please, call me Dria." She gestures toward the building behind the group, where the couple had been imprisoned for five long years. "Can we talk inside? It will be safer."



"Safer?" Cliff asks. "What more can happen to us?"



"My husband is here to set a fire in the mansion, to wipe out every trace of the vampire remains inside. We won't light it until the pack is gone, but I need to work with the survivors and my task will take time-and solitude."



Cliff glances to his wife, confusion and uncertainty marring both of their faces. After a brief moment they both nod. "You've proven your trust so far," he says. "We'll hear you out."



They turn as one, the group nearby parting to allow them passage, and the four of us make our way into the low, long building. Kristin's shoulders shudder when she crosses the threshold, but she keeps going, head held high.



There's a grouping of old furniture just past the entryway. We stand in the middle, all of us looking to the vampire to see what she has to say.



Dria's voice softens, the soothing tone cascading over my skin like a balm on a burn. "Your wolves' minds have been damaged by the extreme control Cecil held over them for so long."



Kristin's face crumbles and tears trickle down her face. She refuses to hide her pain and meets Dria's stare head-on. "Are you suggesting their minds will never heal? That they will remain like this-shadows of themselves-for the rest of their lives?"



The redhead nods. "Yes. That is my fear. But, I can help them."



"How?" Cliff asks, disbelief and weariness prominent in his voice.



"I can fix the worst of his mind meddling, but it will take me time to repair so many. Perhaps almost an hour per person." She looks out the small window near the door, her face pinching with worry. "But..."



"Yes?"



"I won't be able to completely erase their memories for so long of a time frame. I might be able to... conceal... the worst of the atrocities done to them-but not all of it. Not without a lot more time than we have and a plausible cover story you'd want me to insert."



A harsh bark of sound rips from the concerned man. "Cover story? There is nothing we could contrive to explain this horrendous imprisonment." He hangs his head in frustration. "If I could go back in time and volunteer my life to save theirs, I would, without a second thought... but we're way past wishful thinking and have been for a very long time."



Mistrust colors the gaze of his crying wife. "Can we trust her?" she asks, turning her imploring eyes to me, obviously uncaring of voicing her concerns in front of Dria. "Why would she help us?" She looks to Dria, her moist gaze holding a fierce resolve. "We don't know you. Vampires have never helped our kind before."



Dria stands and moves to the window, gazing at the lost souls standing near one another for comfort. "That's not entirely true. Vampires have stepped in to help other supernatural species in the past." She shrugs, as if our discussing her morality doesn't affect her. "Unfortunately, many more of us have stepped in to abuse them as well. I don't blame you for being wary."



The urge to do something wells inside me, and before I have a chance to think about what I'm saying, the words tumble out. "I vouch for her." Three heads whip around to stare at me. "She won't harm your wolves, or you. I swear it on my life."



Silence fills the small space for the span of a few heartbeats. Dria's expression holds one of surprise while the alpha's holds confusion.



"And why would your word matter?" Cliff asks. "This is the first time I've met you."



"Because I volunteered to be her vampire servant and I can read her mind through our bond." The lie spills out between us, Dria's eyes narrow at my blatant fabrication. Hell, there's no way they would know I'm not truly bonded to her yet, or what that bond may or may not share. At the couple's shocked expression I add, "Yeah, that's right. I volunteered my life to her-to save your pack. If you don't trust her, trust me. I stand by my words-she holds no ill will or plans to deceive you in her thoughts."



Cliff nods once and stands, extending his hand to me. I rise and clasp his skeletal hand in my own. "From one alpha to another. I will put my faith in you." He glances in Dria's direction. "And that means in her, too."



Dria walks to the couch and takes a seat. "Good. Glad that's cleared up. This is going to take a while." She looks to Kristin. "Can you bring the first Were in and I'll get started? You're all welcome to stay and watch, as long as you're quiet."



The hours tick by slowly, and the sun rises while she works. To everyone's surprise, the sun doesn't slow her down. Dria's pace is relentless. One after another she sits with each wolf, holding their hand in silence while she repairs the holes Cecil's forced compulsions created. She explained that she's slipping into their minds, the physical contact making it easier, and re-knitting the very fabric of their consciousness to make the savaged Weres whole again.



Rafe and the healed Weres have been busy while she works, removing anything of value from the house-including the car keys of all the vampires who drove here and the numerous stacks of cash locked away in Cecil's safe. Five years is a long time to be missing, and the group has no residences to go home to. The money will at least support them while the pack gets healthy and tries to pick up the pieces of their lives.



By the time Dria works on the tenth Were I visibly see her strength waning. None of the wolves here are strong enough to donate blood, so I step forward. Unsure how to proceed, I bare my wrist to her.



"Here, it looks like you need sustenance to continue."



Hunger lights her gaze, drawing her need closer to the surface. She shakes her head and tears her eyes from my pulsing wrist. "No. I'm fine."



"You're not. I can see you're getting tired, Dria. Why won't you drink from me?"



Anger replaces her obvious want and she lashes out, her voice sharp as a whip. "I am the master here. You don't tell me what I need." Her green gaze locks on mine as she issues a command I'm compelled to follow. "Leave us, wolfman. Check on Rafe."