She Dies at the End (November Snow #1) (29 page)

“He was a mercenary.  In his grief, he wanted to destroy things, and the constant wars obliged him.  I think he meant to get killed, but he was just too good at warfare.  When he met Marisha, she was moving over a battlefield, feeding and putting the doomed out of their misery.  He was terrified to realize what she was, but still, he found her beautiful, and so gentle,” Savita replied, obviously telling a story she’d heard many times.  “She truly was strangely gentle for a vampire.  Perhaps because she was an empath, like Zinnia, which is a most unusual gift for our kind.  It is difficult to reconcile empathy with our . . . predatory nature.”

“And Lord William?”  she asked.                                                                                                                 

Pine and Savita laughed.  “He’s actually better than he was.  Esther’s tamed him a bit.  Even when he was human, he was egotistical, quick-tempered, and cavalier with women.  I think he’d bedded every woman within a day's ride of his village before he got killed on the battlefield.”

“Why did your parents turn him?” Noemi asked curiously, breaking into the conversation.

“After the battle, the two of them went looking for the wounded who might be saved.  These were their men, after all, fighting under their banner.  William was too far gone to live, but not too far to change.  He was a very good blacksmith, and a brave soldier.  He’d served them well and loyally for years, so they chose to give him a new life.  I think they also thought it would be good for me to have a friend nearer my own age.”  She sighed before continuing.  “It was hard for me, leaving India and coming to Europe with them, thought that was my own fault.  Sometimes I had to pretend to be a servant Ilyn had picked up on crusade.  It was humiliating.”

“How was it your fault?” November asked.  Her three companions exchanged glances. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be prying.  It’s none of my business,” she apologized.

“It’s alright.  You’ll hear about it sooner or later,” Savita said softly.  “I was very angry when I was first turned.  I did not want to be a vampire, but Ilyn forbade me from killing myself.  You see, in the first few decades, it is almost impossible for us to disobey our makers.  This helps us survive our early years.  And I was so young when I died.  I was quite volatile.  Anyway, one night I lost control and slaughtered a lot of people.  Innocent people.  Enough of them that we could no longer stay in India, as it was impossible to cover up adequately.  So we headed to Europe and eventually wound up in Scotland for awhile.  That's where they made William and Luka.”  They were all quiet for a moment.  It was hard for November to picture Savita doing something so horrible.

“What about Luka?” November finally asked tentatively.

“Ah, the black sheep.  He knew what we were even before he died.  He was a scribe, worked closely with Ilyn on the accounts and such.  He never left the castle, and saw no one but us and the other servants, so we stopped bothering to enthrall him after awhile.  He was crippled, you see: born with twisted legs.  He’d have wound up dead or a beggar if a priest hadn’t felt sorry for him and taught him to read in Latin and to do figures.  We found him in Italy on the way from Asia to Scotland.  Ilyn bought him from the priest.  

"He served my parents from the time he was eleven until he was about forty-five and Mother finally changed him.  He had first asked them years before, but it took Marisha some time to convince Ilyn.   Finally, when he took a bad fever, Mother brought him over.  He wanted physical strength to go with his intelligence.  He wanted strong legs, to be stronger than all the humans who had ever looked down on him.  He wanted power and money and women.”

“Don’t we all?” Pine interrupted to cut the tension.   "Okay, maybe not the women in my case."

Savita smiled.  “I liked Luka.  We understood each other.  We both knew what it was like to be humiliated.  William, of course, that was another story.  Even when he was human, William was everything Luka despised and envied all at once: this burly blacksmith, the strongest man in the village, a different woman every week, half a dozen bastards, arrogant and highly competent, so everyone put up with it.  And the worst part was how kind William was to Luka.  William designed a sort of wheelchair for him, built it himself one Christmas without even being asked.  Luka hated having to be grateful to him.  And when they turned Luka, so soon after making William, rivalry was inevitable.”

“Do you love him?” Pine asked curiously.

“I did, until he started blowing people up,” she answered sadly.  "Maybe I still do."  With a deep breath, she changed the subject and turned to Greg.  “What about you,
raja
?  Would you like to share your story?”

“I was born in Georgia a slave.  I ran away.  Savita found me dying in a ditch.  I’d gotten wounded in the course of my escape.  Infection had set in, of course.  She offered me the choice of a quick death or a new life in freedom.  Obviously, I chose the latter,” Greg said matter-of-factly. "We helped slaves escape to Canada until the Civil War came and went."

“That’s when we started migrating west.  Eventually, all of us wound up all the way out here,” Savita concluded.

“How did you two meet?” Noemi asked Noemi and Savita.

“I grew up on a ranch in Southern California,” Noemi answered.  “I married and had a child, as was expected of me.  My maker was riding through our land one night.  He saw me sitting on the porch, sewing.  He decided that instant that he had to have me and stole me away, changed me that night.  Felipe is a very impulsive, passionate man, even now.  At least he let my kin find me and bury me that day, so they wouldn’t think I had run off and abandoned them.  That gave me some comfort, but it was hard for me, at first, because I missed my family so much.  I had no desire for my husband, but I still loved him.  He was a good man, gentle and hard-working and patient with a wife who shrank from his touch.  And of course, I loved my little girl.  That was the worst part.

"But Felipe was kind to me, taught me how to survive in this life, and I was happy enough.  I didn’t realize what had been missing in my life until I met Savita.”  She turned to her wife and smiled.  “Felipe realized I was smitten even before I did myself.  He loved me enough to let me go.”          

“Is that all of you in the family?” November asked Savita, fascinated by the tale of their history, which was filling in a lot of gaps between glimpses she’d accumulated over the previous months.

“Esther is William’s progeny as well as his wife.  He found her while he spent some time as a pirate. Ilyn also has two older children, Raina and Emil, siblings we haven’t seen in centuries.  They elected to stay in Europe when we left for adventure in America.  They came to visit after Mother died, but we haven’t heard from them since.  They probably have some children, but I’ve never met them.  They’ve mostly been living in Russia, I believe.  For a time, Raina ruled Persia.”

“Does Luka have any children?”

“No.  His disdain for human beings only grew once he was one of us.”  Her face darkened.  “There was one girl, poor child, whom he tried to turn.  She was like you, a prophetess.  He found her in Spain, just before they were about to burn her for a witch.  She failed to rise.  It was a terrible disappointment to him.  He’s always said that he was searching for someone worthy of the honor, someone special,” Savita replied, glancing at November and quickly looking away.

“Someone like November,” Pine stated flatly, his honesty crashing into the middle of what had been a very pleasant evening.

“That is likely his intention, to make her his child,” Savita admitted.  “We must do our best to shield you from that fate,” she added in November’s direction.

November felt suddenly cold.  “Wait, you said something a few minutes ago . . . that you can’t disobey your maker for the first few years.  So if Luka were to . . . kill me and make me come back, I would have to do whatever he wanted?  He could force me to help him to terrible things?  And I wouldn’t even be able to kill myself so he couldn’t use me?”  Her hands twisted in her lap.

Everyone nodded and grew quiet.  Savita spoke first.  “It is a very bad thing indeed, to have a bad maker.  We were all lucky enough to have parents who did not abuse their power over us.”

“We got lucky in the gas station, that they sent such a young fairy that you were able to kill him, and we got lucky again that Ben was so inept,” Pine said in the most serious tone November had ever heard from him.  “We got lucky that you were able to see Lilith’s plan before more people got killed and before she could spirit you away.  But if that luck runs out, we need to be able to find you before Luka harms you or turns you.”

November slowly raised her head, instinctively knowing that this conversation was going somewhere she wasn’t going to like.  Pine pulled a vial of blood out of his jacket pocket.

“No way,” November said quickly, shrinking back into her chair.  “Not gonna happen.”

“It will help us find you,” Pine argued.  “Just one sip of the king’s blood.  That’s what they required of me, before the king and Lord William would give permission for you to come out here.  They made me promise that I’d get you to drink this.”

“I already had Lord William’s blood,” she retorted.

“It was one drop, and it was months ago,” he replied evenly.  “It won’t work anymore.  We’re about to travel, which increases the opportunity for Luka to try something.  We can’t risk it.”

“Why does it have to be his?” she asked, beginning to panic.

“He’s the oldest.  His blood has the most power.  With my blood, if he got you a couple of hundred miles away, I might lose you,” Savita explained gently.

“Can’t you just put some kind of chip in me or something?”  November asked, grasping at straws.

“They only work from close by, and he’d just cut it out of you anyway,” Pine answered a bit brutally.

“If you make me do this, I won’t sleep for a week.  I’ll wake up screaming.  I’ll see him all the time.  It’s bad enough, all this fairy magic and his ridiculous behavior.  Now this, on top of it?  I’d rather be back with my mother,” she said with some heat.

“Unfortunately, that isn’t an option,” Pine replied, cool and implacable.

“November, please drink it.  I wouldn’t be asking you to do something this difficult if I didn’t think it was in your best interest,” Savita said, leaning forward, trying to persuade her.

“Are you sure it’s not because I’m your family’s favorite weapon at the moment?” November responded, anger now winning out over fear.

“Perhaps that would have been true before I knew you, before I worked with you on those bombings.  Before you saved the life of my only child, as well as countless others.”  Savita knelt on the ground next to November’s chair.

Quiet Greg finally chimed in.  “I hate that we are pushing you to do something against your will.  November, I owe you my life, and I don’t want to see you lose yours.  Please just drink it.  We’ll all help take care of you after, we promise.”

“Sometimes, choosing to live is the most difficult thing you can do,” Pine said gently.  “You know that better than any of us.  It would be a shame for you to have fought so hard to recover only to die at Luka’s hands because we couldn’t find you fast enough.  Please, November.”

November looked into their faces, and what she saw there was sincere concern, even a hint of fear.  She closed her eyes for a moment.  "You tell him.  You tell him that I don't know if I can forgive him this." 

When she opened them, she stood up, grabbed the vial, and drank it down without saying a word.

Savita caught her before she hit the concrete.

Ilyn kneels by a pile of ash, weeping, rending his clothes.  Ilyn standing next to a pyre, weeping, rending his clothes.  Ilyn teaches a little boy how to fish.  Ilyn holds Savita as she cries silent tears of blood.  Ilyn runs down a long hallway, surrounded by smoke and screaming.  Ilyn helps November down into her grave.  Ilyn cries on November’s pillow.  Ilyn sings to her in the bathtub.  Ilyn on battlefield after battlefield.  Ilyn in bed with Marisha.  Ilyn marrying Nadi.   Ilyn screams, stabbed again and again.  Ilyn feeds on an endless parade of humans.  Ilyn gives William his blood.  Ilyn and blood.  Ilyn and death.  Ilyn and birth.  Forever.

It was nearly an hour before the Oracle came around.  With Greg’s help, she sat up.  They had moved her to the living room during her extended vision.  Savita put a straw in her mouth, and she sucked down a full glass of orange juice.

“Are you alright?” Pine asked.

It occurred to November that he uttered that phrase an awful lot.  She said nothing in reply.  Instead, she stood up, looked down at herself to make sure she was steady enough to walk, and headed toward her room.  Her companions looked at one another, uncertain.  Pine stood up to follow her.  Just as she reached the door, he stopped her.  “Please, say something.  Anything. November?” he begged, desperately worried that he’d derailed all her progress.

She looked at his anxious face and had mercy on her friend.  “You can also tell him that he made me cry.”  Then she stepped into her room, closed and bolted the door, threw herself down on the bed, and was true to her word.  She sobbed into a pillow until finally, exhausted, she fell asleep.

She woke often from her troubled sleep, as she’d expected.  The third time, she sat up, heart pounding, wondering if she’d screamed, and over her labored breath she heard quiet voices in the hallway.

“Of course I have a key,” Savita said softly, “but I think you should just let her sleep.”

“I want to make sure she’s okay,” came Zinnia’s strained voice.  “She was seriously upset.  I could feel it all the way in Berkeley.”

“I felt it as well,” Ilyn’s voice added.  He sounded terribly agitated.  November’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice, hope rising for the instant before she remembered the day’s events. “There has to be something you fairies can do about this,” Ilyn continued.  “This isn’t supposed to be possible.  I can’t stand it, this connection with her.  I feel like I’m losing my mind.  It’s only gotten worse since she drank my blood.  I’ve never heard of giving blood having an effect like that, not in all my years.”  He sounded as close to panic as a vampire of his age could get.

At his words, November’s fury bloomed again, and she strode to the door and swung it open.  “I don’t much care for it myself,
your grace
,” she said in a voice dripping with venom.  “And I’m ever so sorry to have inconvenienced you with my unfortunate survival the other night as well as my following your order to Pine this evening.  By the way, thanks so very much for making one of my only friends do that to me.  That was super classy of you.  Now if you wouldn’t mind getting the hell out of this house, I need to get back to bed.  I think I can fit in a thousand more nightmares about you before breakfast, though I might have to cry myself to sleep again first.”  And with that, she slammed the door and locked it again.

November heard footsteps, then silence.  She was seething, relieved to be alone again, when she heard a tentative tap on the door.  “Please, Em,” Zinnia whispered.  “Please let me in.  The others have gone.  I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

November sighed; then she went to let her best friend in, bolting the door behind her.  “Do I
look
alright to you?” she asked in a harsh voice as she got back in bed.

“You look awful,” Zinnia replied, climbing in beside her to give her a hug.  “Pine filled me in.  You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks, Zin.  I'm sorry for sounding so mad.  And thanks for coming,” November replied, trying not to start crying again.  “Can you stay?”

“As long as you need.”

With Zinnia in the room, November managed to fall back to sleep and get a few hours of rest before more dreams made it impossible.   It was a beautiful day, which helped lift her spirits.  She decided to enjoy the warmth and the sunshine by having breakfast outside.  Zinnia stuck close to her side but didn’t ask any prying questions, for which November was quite grateful.  Pine did the same, looking vaguely guilty.  Finally, November asked Zinnia, “Don’t you have school?  I don’t want you to get in trouble over me.”

“Mom pulled me out,” she answered sadly.  “There was a bombing last night of a house being rented by several vampires and fairies who were students at a college back East.  All four of them died.  One of their parents is lord of Ohio.  Whoever did it spray-painted 'Traitors' on the street in front of the house.  Some people think that getting a college education means we’re trying to live too much in the human world, having too much respect for their intellectual achievements or some garbage.  My mother is afraid I could be targeted, too, because of her politics and my friendship with you.  So I’m on leave until this all plays out.”

“I’m sorry, Zin.  That sucks.”

“Not your fault.  Besides, I couldn’t really concentrate anyway, with all this mess going on.  Too much drama,” the fairy replied.

“Seriously, though.  Hey, do either of you have any idea when we have to fly to Nevada?” November asked.

“Last I heard, tomorrow night,” Pine answered.

“And what exactly am I going to have to do there?” the seer inquired, wanting to be prepared.  She was in no mood for more surprises.

“I’m not sure.  I’ll find out all that I can.  One thing is for sure – no parties for you.”

“Thank God for small favors,” November said, managing a little laugh.  Pine smiled at the sound of it, and Zinnia looked much relieved.

 “The lords are pretty spooked, I hear.  A few are making secret sleeping arrangements.  Most are bringing frozen blood along.  I heard a rumor that the lord of Kentucky is bringing a hundred caged squirrels for snacks, but I think that’s just a joke at his expense,” he added with a slight smile.  “It’s possible that they might want you to examine Lilith before they do her in.”  November made a long-suffering face.  “I know, I know.  It would suck.  But maybe you might see something useful.”

“She’s just so gross,” November complained.  “Honestly, examining that knife would probably be more useful, since it belongs to Luka.”

“Yeah, about that . . .” Pine began.  “It seems to have disappeared.”

November twitched at that piece of news, her hand rising of its own accord to rub the scar on her arm.  It still ached, a little less each day.  “How is that possible?” she demanded.

“There was a lot of commotion that night.  It’s an extremely valuable weapon.  Very old.  They don't make them that way anymore, thank God.  The king was livid, of course,” Pine said, shrugging.  “Anyone could have grabbed it.”

Finished with her breakfast, November turned to her work.  “I need to draw,” she told her friends, and they knew she was done talking for a long while.

When she was finished, she took a walk to the gate at the end of the long driveway.  After a little while, once the sun had set quite spectacularly, Greg joined her.

"You want to run."  It was a statement rather than a question.  November looked up at Greg and didn't bother to deny it, nor did he bother to tell her that running would be at best an empty gesture.  He knew that she knew.

"I am having trouble seeing much difference between Luka and Ilyn.  Other than that Ilyn hasn't blown anybody up. Lately."

"Not that I often agree with my grandfather, but at least Ilyn doesn't want to rule the world, commit genocide against the werewolves, and enslave the entire human race," Greg offered.

"No, just the ones he wants to make use of."  She shook her head.  "The things I've seen him do, the things he's said to me. . . and I can't stop thinking about all those girls at the parties.  I'm supposed to be on his side because he's the lesser of two evils?  But then he's kind to me sometimes, and I don't know how to reconcile it.  And now I have this magic tying me to him, a tie I won't escape even after I die, according to my vision.  I can't . . . I just can't.  I don't want to be like him."

"You don't have to be Ilyn
or
Luka.  Though there is one thing I think my Uncle Luka has right." November looked up at Greg with more than a bit of shock before Greg continued, "Revelation.  The only way to be a truly ethical vampire, or fairy, is if our prey gives informed consent.  Which they can't do if they don't know we exist."  November nodded, allowing that he had a good point.  "At any rate, there is more than one way to be a vampire.  You could feed solely on animals, like Lord William.  Or, you could do what I do when I feel the need to drink human blood directly from the source."

"Which is?"

He bent down to whisper in her ear.  His breath was cold against her skin as he confessed, "I break the law.  I bite people who know."  He grinned at her surprise.

"But how does that work?  How does word not get out over all those years?" November breathed, fascinated.

"It started with some people whose lives I saved, when I was young.  Savita and I helped them escape slavery, like she helped me.  They asked what they could do for me in return.  I could somehow tell I could trust them.  So, I told them, and they gave me blood freely, and they kept my secret.  Over the years, I saved a lot of people from a lot of different things.  They have children, grandchildren they teach about me, who want to know me, in case they ever need my help.  Symbiosis."

"Who knows?  What if you get caught?"  November whispered conspiratorially, peeking around for eavesdroppers.

"I'm sure Savita knows, but she pretends not to.  And nothing good," he replied.  "William is utterly committed to the law.  It would mean exile at best.  But I hate enthralling people.  It's too much like slavery. I have a real problem with slavery.  As you might imagine."  Greg's kind features turned fierce for just a split second, just long enough to make November's heart skip a beat.  "There are stories, legends of a community somewhere, where vampires, fairies, werewolves, and humans live together honestly.  Nobody thinks it is real, but I just love those stories, you know?  Like a vampire garden of Eden, where we lived in peace before we all learned to hate and hunt each other."

They stood together in silence for several minutes before November worked up the courage to say, "In my vision, it looks like Ilyn turns me. . . but what if you did it instead?"  The words came out in a tumbled rush, as she tried to shove them out before she lost her nerve.

"Oh, November . . .I wish that I could, but it just isn't a good idea," he replied gently, like a potential date trying to let a girl down easy.  November looked at her shoes, mortified.  The vampire knelt down next to her, gently turning her to face him. "Hey, it's not like that.  It's not even that I'm afraid the king would be livid, which he would.  Whatever, we could run away to another country.  But turning someone into a vampire is not as easy as the stories make out.  It doesn't always work, and my track record . . . I've tried twice and lost them both.  I swore off of it.  And Ilyn's made at least four and never lost a one at rebirth, and those are only the ones I know about."  

November looked down at him questioningly.  "Humans and fairies have miscarriages and stillbirths, sometimes, right?  So do we.  Sometimes our progeny don't rise, even if we do everything right.  Sometimes they rise, but they are sickly and waste away, or their minds aren't right.  And just like with the fairies, it's happening to us more and more.  Rumor has it the werewolves are having the same problem, not that they'd tell us."

"The fairies?" she asked.  She vaguely remembered someone saying something to her about fairy infertility.

"Zinnia's parents lost five before they had her.  Pine and his ex-wife stopped trying after four because they couldn't endure another loss."

"How awful.  I can't imagine."  She swallowed the tears that sprang to her eyes.

"I think Ilyn is just the safer choice.  If I tried and you didn't make it . . ." he trailed off.  "But I promise, I'll help you, if you really do wind up one of us."

"Thanks," she said with a crooked half-smile.  "Just don't let me hurt anybody."

Her lanky companion unfolded himself.  "Come on, we should get inside.  You must be cold."  She took his arm, and they walked back to the house, both wondering what life might have been like if things were just a little different.

***

November had never been on an airplane before.  She suspected that she had now been spoiled for life as far as air travel was concerned.  They were sitting on a private jet, on their way to Las Vegas to finish preparing for the Assembly.  The king was sitting at the front of the plane, talking on the phone.  November was doing her best to ignore him.  Ben and Lilith both had been transferred during the day to prevent any attempts at escape, and the plane had returned in the evening for the king and his entourage.  Zinnia was sitting across from November, resting.  Fairies didn’t sleep, but they had this way of zoning out when they had a quiet moment with nothing to do.  Most of William’s other people were also making the move to Nevada, flying separately as a security precaution.  Greg would be staying behind to hold down the fort in Oakland.  Ilyn and November were accompanied by security staff, with Pine and Willow assigned watch over the human.