Blood Rules (33 page)

Authors: Christine Cody

Tags: #Fantasy, #Vampires

BOOK: Blood Rules

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Then, in a flurry that ended in a bang, 562 let Gabriel and Mariah go, leaving Gabriel alone in blackness, devoid of any image/thoughts. He scrambled to piece everything together.

562 was a she
and
a he, the mother and father of every type of blood creature he knew on this earth, and all its progeny were bonded by one commonality.

562's bloodlust.

As Gabriel's vision solidified, the mother/father's slit red eyes came into sight. Then 562 found a voice in Gabriel's mind, and Mariah's, too, because he could also feel the hum in her.

The sound was unearthly. A vibration that reminded him of a spirit in a cursed place. A call from the grave.

My children,
562 thought, mentally embracing them.

It was enough to give even a vampire shivers.

Mariah shuddered with him, the sensation jittering through their link as 562 held out its scratched arms to them. No wonder 562 had looked at him and the other Badlanders as if it knew them.

Its children.

What parent wouldn't want their progeny to live on and flourish?
it asked.
I hate to see you floundering.

Gabriel and Mariah's connection rotated, and they shared the knowledge about why 562 had been scratching itself.

It'd tempted Mariah with those scratchesâtempted its failing, desperate child, into exchanging blood with it. It had merely wanted to strengthen her.

Were all of the other Badlanders meant to follow?

“You told us there wasn't a cure,” Gabriel said, because that was all he could think to say right then.

I told you that there is no concocted potion for you and the others to drink, no shots to take,
came that awful voice.
I never said there was no cure. I am only not the sort of cure you were searching for.
562 focused on Mariah.
Tell him how you have felt since taking from me.

“I don't know how I feel,” Mariah whispered. “I'm better, thoughâeven more improved than I've been lately. It's just not in the way I expected.”

Gabriel thought it would be logical to be angry, but he wasn't. His words almost made up for that.

“Why would you appeal to us, make us trust you, and then turn on us like this?”

Please do not look at me as a threat. I have experienced what they do to us. You have seen it, too. It started with them discovering that I could heal them through an exchange. It continued when they found that my blood changed them altogether after they drank it. But then my vampires realized they would have to exercise secrecy to survive, and they left me behind while they hid. Other humans came to take their placeâgreedy, perverse, in their need to push boundaries. They tested my blood on live animals, seizing more than I was willing to share. But, at the very least, out of their efforts, my weres were born.
562's red gaze seemed to gentle.
Then I hid myself away, wanting no more of these humans, but I was lonely. I sneaked out twice, wondering if there was a type of child who would be so grateful to me for caring for them that they would live with me. So I raised the dead, once with a human, once with an animal. I would give them life again, and for that, surely they would adore me. Both attempts produced baser monsters than I would have liked, so I refrained from ever doing more, though they took care of reproducing themselves.

Its inner voice had been steeped in something Gabriel would've called parental love and protection. 562 had explained a lotâthe resurrected dead woman and crazed rabbitâbut there was something else....

The Cyclops in the last image/thought. A bleeding, dead monster at 562's feet.

Just as Gabriel was about to ask about that, 562 thought,
Being taken by the Shredders was the best thing that could have happened. I had my children in the asylums, and I was content to be near them, even while the humans kept us apart with their invisible shield doors. I realized that the time has come for us, children. The world is ready to change.

Change how?

Mariah asked, “Were you calling to your progeny by scratching yourself and letting out blood? Was I the first to exchange with you?”

562 seemed to smile under its fall of hair.

“What if you'd tempted a
human
to drink from you?” Gabriel asked.

562 didn't blink.
Humans do not crave blood as you do, Gabriel. They are curious about it, yes, but it is not a calling. Yet, if they do drink from me? There is only healing. It takes an exchange with me to become a vampire.

Mariah's next question rushed out of her. “And what if someone who's already a were-creature exchanges with you?”

562 leveled its red gaze on Mariah.

“What happens?” she added, but she didn't sound as afraid as she should have. “Will it give me more power to go after the bad guys?”

Gabriel closed his eyes. The bad guys. The murderers who'd gotten to most of Mariah's family.

When he opened his eyes, 562 relayed more.

My biteâmy salivaâtransports power into another being, but my blood mixed with theirs brings out different attributes in an exchanger, based on what is already present in them.

“And Mariah?” Gabriel asked, demanding more.

562's hair moved near its mouth again. Definitely smiling.
She will survive them
all
.

Gabriel had expected a jarring reaction from Mariahâa sense of terror . . . but that wasn't what he got. A floating energy lifted their connection, as if she thought that 562 had given her . . . a gift?

Hunger tossed and turned inside Gabriel as he considered this. What would an exchange mean for him?

But he was an undead vampire. Would he become like that tik-tik woman 562 had raised from the dead, with her floating head and appetite for unborn children?

What would he become even without a full moon?

At his opened mind, Mariah's link nestled into him, as if burying itself, trying to find a place within Gabriel. The bloodlust and the raging hunger within him responded, pushing up more possibilities.

What if being undead was different from all-the-way dead, and 562's blood just made him a better vampire? He'd seen the peace just a drink had given to the male vampire in one of its first image/thoughts. Surely the full treatment would be . . .

Divine.

562 tilted its head.
Gabriel, the invitation is there for all my children. You, the oldster, Hana and Pucci, and . . .

He should've wondered who else was on the list, but he was already imagining a perfect world, populated by even stronger monsters.

Yet something struggled in him, as if it were trying to get out of its bindings. He identified it as the last of his humanity, and it was wondering what he thought about a world in which there were things worse than the monsters he already knew.

The things a full moon might bring out . . .

As he glanced at Mariah, he saw that she was completely enthralled with 562.

He couldn't help feeling as if she'd left him behind.

When he looked back at 562, the creature eased into his mind again.
When I was caught, I saw that human weapons were more advanced. They studied me and, several times during their experiments, I wished I would die. Yet I often wonder what might have happened if they had found a way to do it.... Would my vampire children turn human, as they do when their direct maker expires?

It took Gabriel a moment to come to terms with what 562 was saying. According to that pamphlet his maker had given him, her death alone would've meant the return of his humanity.

But what if 562, the well of the remaining blood monsters, died?

This notion balanced against the bloodlust simmering in him, and it was only made stronger every time he thought about 562's bite and blood.

His veins buzzed.

I have also wondered,
562 thought,
if I should die, would my were-children go back to what
they
originally were?

Mariah took a deep breath. “Animals. Is that what I'd become?” Then she seemed to recall the part where the dog in the image/thought had bred with the captive woman. “Or would we be twisted humans combined with animals?”

562 stared at her, unresponsive, totally unhelpful. After all, it hadn't died yet, so how would it know the consequences?

Even as Gabriel felt Mariah's despair in their link, he wondered what 562's termination might do to a vampire. Turn it back into a human, its original form?

562's death could be a cure for him, but not for Mariah.

Their origin mentally spoke again, as if it'd sensed Mariah's turmoil.
You drank my blood. It
will
make you stronger. Wait and see.

“What will I be after the full moon, though?”

Certainly not human.
562 sounded as if it didn't wish to encourage that in Mariah anymore.
And the change during the full moon should last only as long as the lunar pull is upon you, though I cannot be certain. During my time out of hiding and captivity, I never did find any were-creatures to strengthen through an exchange, and, besides, you did not take much of my blood during your own exchange.

Mariah's panic expanded.

562 tried to comfort its child.
You've always been willing to be a monster for the rest of your life if a cure didn't present itself, isn't that true, Mariah?

She stole a glance at Gabriel. It wasn't that she'd wanted to be human as much as she'd wanted to protect her own the best she could, either by having her powers taken away altogether or never subjecting her community to the consequences of her killer instincts. She hadn't wanted 562's blood to filter through herâshe'd wanted the full force of it.

The mother/father reached out a hand, as if to touch Mariah's ever-increasing glow.

But it let its hand fall back down to its lap.
At least I see that your two kinds can coexist. At the root of you, you are animal versus human, and you bring out the defensiveness in each other, even while being drawn to a sameness between the two of you.

Yes, he and Mariah encouraged what they'd figured to be the worst in each other. But Abby, another werewolf, had never driven him to these depths when he'd been around her. Then again, he'd never bitten her and tasted her blood, had never gotten as close, and most important, they'd never connected or imprinted.

Mariah was both a poison to him and a salvation, and it was the blood that'd brought them together and apart.

Gabriel could feel that Mariah was gradually accepting 562 as a parent, and the emotion carried to him. In a logical way, 562 was more like an anti-cure than a cure. They'd all have to make a decision: to take it or not?

To perhaps live better, or to die at the hands of humans?

As if predicting the direction of Gabriel's musings, 562 thought to him,
I think you should see what changes occur in me first during the full moon. I would not want you to regret strengthening your blood through mine for all the years a vampire would live.

Though 562 hadn't known him for long, it knew him well. Even so, the bloodlust in him slammed.

Take what it offers,
his lust seemed to say.
Live better.

“Would I be like that resurrected woman?” he asked. “Would my head float and . . . ?”

It almost sounded amused by his question.
No, you're a vampire, not entirely a traditional corpse.

Then 562 perked up, going back to the innocuous creature it'd seemed to be before it'd revealed itself to Gabriel and Mariah. It started to go,
“Tik-tik, tik-tik . . .”

Taraline,
Gabriel thought. She had to be nearby.

And he didn't like the ideas he was getting by associating that
tik-tik
sound with what he'd seen in 562's relayed stories.

He caught 562's gaze, and a fleeting image zapped into him: 562 hugging Taraline, as if it felt sorry for her. As if a half-dead creature with dymorrdia could be 562's child just as easily as that dead woman it'd obviously sympathized with long ago.

Taraline's situation wasn't the same as that of a woman whose baby had died just before she'd expired, too. But 562 had a parental streak, especially, it seemed, for any female who'd lost a part of herself.

Now he knew whom 562 had left off its list when it said the offer of its blood was open to all of them. Taraline.

Had 562 been playing a puppy-dog game with her, putting Taraline off guard, bringing her closer and closer, luring her in? He'd seen that old woman mended in 562's image/thoughts, but the healing had come after an exchange.

Was 562 tempting Taraline into trusting it? Gabriel's durned heroic urges blasted away his bloodlust, and he stood before Taraline could even get in the room.

He went up the tunnel to her, even while feeling tugged back to Mariah at the same time, their blood, their link. He tried to forget it as he saw Taraline, a breeze fluttering her veil and skirt as she stopped in her tracks at the sight of Gabriel. She held her solar lantern in front of her.

“I didn't find 562 in her normal place,” she said.

“No need to check on it. In fact, you should probably just keep your distance.”

He ushered her down the tunnel, though he didn't know what good that would do. But Taraline's steps were slow.

“Did 562 ask you to take its blood?” he asked bluntly.

She straightened, as if this were the last subject she'd expected him to broach. Or as if she couldn't believe he gave a rat's ass.

“I think she took a fancy to you,” he said.

She raised her chin. “Yes, Gabriel, she showed me what she could do for me.”