Page 6 of Blood & Bones

“I want you to dig deep within. I want you to focus on your legs and arms. You feel no pain; you feel control over your limbs. Move your hand to show me that you have control.”

After a moment, he moved his hand.

“Good. Now focus on your heart and your lungs—they’re embraced in stillness, but they have no need to breathe. You’ll never rely on air for your life again. This is power, Laddy. This is freedom. I want you to focus on the quietude of your body and how easy it is. Listen to my voice. I do not breathe. My heart does not beat. I make no noise except that which I choose to make. You’ve known this about me. I can help you. Squeeze my hand and slowly sit up.”

After a moment, he gently squeezed my hand and began to sit up. I stared deep into his eyes, not letting him look away. I remembered this state all too well. It had been over twelve years since I’d been turned, but some moments remained burned into your skull, and this was one of them. I remembered the panic, the hunger, the desire to burn to a crisp to get rid of the realization that life would forever be different.

“Tell me it will be okay,” he said, his voice a whimper and a plea.

“Life will never be the same, Laddy, but it can still hold happiness and it can still hold joy. It depends on what you choose to do with it. Yes, we walk in the shadows, and we’ll never again feel the sun on our faces, but the moon holds beauty and the stars still sparkle.” I turned around to sit by his side, putting my arm around his shoulders.

“I’m afraid,” he whispered.

“I know,” I said. “But I’m here, and I’ll help you as much as I can.” And then, as he melted against me, I took a deep breath and said, “When you’re ready, you need to tell me what happened. I need to find who did this to you. And I promise you—they’ll pay for it, and you’ll never have to face them again.”

For a long time, he just sat in silence, and then—finally—he turned to me and began to tell me what had happened.

CHAPTER THREE

Laddy licked his lips and tried to breathe. I steadied him as the panic raced across his face again when he realized he couldn’t catch a breath.

“Steady, take it easy, dude. You’ll be all right.” My heart was breaking for him. Laddy didn’t deserve this. Nobody did, but he—especially—had been so quiet, so gentle, and to think of the life in front of him made me cringe. I’d always been hard to control, but Laddy—I hated to think it, but I didn’t believe he had the constitution for what was waiting for him as the future approached. But I’d do what I could to help.

“You’ll get used to it, Laddy. I promise.” I waited for a moment, then said, “Okay, try again. Tell me what happened.”

Laddy looked over at Tavah, then back at me. “I got out of work a little later than usual. I was upset—my boss bitched me out for a mistake I made. I almost never make that kind of blunder, but…I guess I was thinking about my family. I got a call from my sister last night, and she’s getting a divorce. Turns out her husband wasn’t as nice as he seemed in the beginning.”

A hard look crossed his face, and I saw a glimmer of crimson in his eyes. After a moment, he shivered, then continued.

“I was walking by that abandoned building on Boral Street. There was a noise in the alley, and I heard some woman yelling for help. There was nobody else around, so of course, I ran down the alley. I saw a woman standing there, shivering, and in the shadows, I heard her crying. I went over to help...”

I knew this story. Rogue vamps used the ploy all too often because it worked. Or they played the Bundy card and pretended to be handicapped until their prey was close enough.

“Let me guess⁠—”

“Right. She turned, and I saw her eyes. They were glowing red, and she came after me faster than I could move. The next moment, she had her arms around me and whispered for me to stay quiet. I couldn’t disobey. She let her fangs down and…” He met my eyes, trying to keep control. He was shaking, so I took his hands.

“Count. What I do since I can’t breathe is to count. One…two…three…four…Count until you can think again. Come on, count with me. One…”

“Two…three…four…” By the time we reached eight, he had managed to take control again. “All right. Yeah, she drained me until I was almost dead. Then she bit into her own wrist and pressed it against my mouth. ‘Drink,’ she ordered. I had to. I couldn’t help myself⁠—”

At his look of disgust, I said, “That’s the command voice. All vampires have it. It doesn’t always work, but if our prey is wounded or tired or already beaten down by life, there’s almost no way they can resist. It wasn’t your fault. You were almost dead, so it was almost instinctive. The self-preservation instinct is strong, Laddy.”

After a moment, he nodded. “You’re right, I guess. I drank. And then…I don’t know—something happened, and it came so fast. I was almost out of my body when I felt myself being slammed back in. And then I sat up, and she laughed and said, ‘Good luck’ and vanished.”

A rogue vampire, all right. We couldn’t let her continue. Rogue vamps accounted for a large percentage of turnings. She’d go on, minting new vampires until she was caught.

“What did she look like?” I asked.

“She was…about five-eight, almost ghostly thin, pale as marble. Her hair was the color of the sun. She was…beautiful. She reminded me of a shadow out of the past, Menolly.” His voice drifted as he spoke, and I realized he was enthralled.

“She’s your sire, but she’s a rogue vampire, Laddy. She can’t be allowed to continue.”

He stiffened. “If you kill her, will it kill me? Or…what is it when we die?”

“We call it the final death,” I said. “And honestly, at some point in every vampire’s life, it becomes a promise of release. If you try to keep even an ounce of your humanity, there will be a point in time where you look toward the future, and it will seem like a massive burden. I’ve talked to several older vamps who were reaching that point. Then you make a choice. You either let go of any sense of compassion that you have, or you let go of your body, and when that happens, you’re able to move on.”

I had thought of walking into the sun more than once during the year in which the OIA helped me come to grips with my new state of existence. They hadn’t wanted to, but my sisters fought for me, given it was the OIA’s fault that I was turned, and even my father put in a good word for me, though that was the last kind thing he’d ever done—at least for me.