The Children of the Sun (31 page)

“What are we going to do?”

“I’ve told Two to meet me in Central Park tomorrow, and to bring Sasha and Leonore,” Theroen said. “From there we can regroup and plan our—”

“No. Theroen … no! My God, after all that has happened, how can you still want to fight them?”

“Please, let me finish. There is no way to fight them, not right now. Perhaps if we knew where they were coming from, some sort of argument could be made for it, but at the moment we do not have the information and so cannot act on it.”

“Why bother regrouping?” Naomi asked.

“We have lost two battles in a row because we were unprepared. It seems as though we may have lost the war, but I am not sure it matters; we cannot surrender. The Children will not stop until we are all dead. Most of us that still live wish to continue doing so, Naomi. Our best course of action is to reunite somewhere safe.”

“If you still wish to live, then by all means, do whatever you want,” Naomi said. “For my part, my mind was made up even before I learned about Jakob. Why couldn’t you have just pulled the trigger? I saw how close you were … now I must go to my grave knowing that yet another friend has gone before me.”

Theroen was still holding the gun in his hand, and he glanced at it now. He looked over at Naomi, who was watching him, and then back again at the weapon.

“Naomi Ames,” he said, contemplating. “My oldest friend.”

“Yes.”

“The Naomi Ames I used to know cared deeply about people. She cared about the other vampires in this country and in the world. She cared about them so much that I have seen her join battle to protect them, even though it went against her very being. You have fought with weapons and with words to protect those people, to shield them from tyrants like Aros and Abraham. Why are you abandoning them now, when they need you most?”

“There is nothing I could possibly do for—”

“Who is left, Naomi, if not you? Who is left to lead? Here we are, the two oldest vampires left in this entire country, and if I could take this burden from your shoulders and bear it on my own, I would – but I cannot. They will not follow me, not alone. Whether the choice is to flee or fight, it must be made and then carried out. Without the council it will be chaos, and without you there is no council.

“The Ay’Araf will fight and die. The Eresh and the Ashayt, what is left of them, will either flee the country or huddle in the dark, waiting for their time to come. The Burilgi will remain scattered and disorganized, and one by one or dozens at a time they will be destroyed. That is the fate of all American vampires, if I turn to you now and put a bullet into your head.”

“Don’t be absurd.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me I am wrong, then. Try to lie to me, Naomi Ames, and if you can do it – if you can say those words without me feeling the lie pouring forth from you like heat from a furnace – then I will do what you ask. Tell me there is someone else who can pull the remnants of the council together and lead.”

Naomi stared at him, two bright spots of color resting high on her cheeks, her jaw clenched. He had trapped her, and she knew it.

“I will not lie to you,” she said at last.

“No. And so, here we are. You are not asking me to kill you, now. You are asking me to choose the fate of every vampire in this country. I cannot.”

“Then give me the fucking gun and let me do it myself!” Naomi cried, her eyes blazing. “God
damn
you, Theroen Anders!”

Theroen looked at her, shook his head, and gave a small, sad laugh. “There is no God. You told me that yourself not half an hour ago. Here, Naomi … take it.”

Theroen tossed the gun to her, and he saw in her eyes as it moved through the air a moment of sudden, complete surprise. She had not expected him to relinquish the weapon so easily, and he found himself smiling as she caught it and held it in her lap, staring at it.

“What good would it do me to keep it from you?” he asked. “Could you not simply find another? You could, and if I am wrong about who you are, Naomi, then there is no way to stop you from proving it, is there?”

“No,” Naomi said, still staring at the gun. “No, of course not.”

“Very well, then. I cannot do what you ask, not now, but I will make you a promise, and I will give you a choice.”

Naomi glanced up at him. “What are you talking about.”

“The choice is simple,” Theroen said. “Shoot yourself here, now, or put the gun back in its box. I will accept the latter as a promise that you will not take it out again, or buy another, until the time is right.”

“And
your
promise?”

Theroen nodded, the smile gone from his lips. He met Naomi’s big, beautiful grey eyes and held her gaze.

“Help us, all of us, to get through this threat. If there comes a time when we have reached the other side and can live without fear, and if at that time you still wish to die, then you have my word – on my soul and the souls of all those I have ever loved – that I will grant your request. I will be your friend, as I have ever been, and I will put the gun to your head, pull the trigger, and send you to whatever there is that awaits you. I will swear it to you, Naomi, but only if you help us. We cannot do this alone.”

Naomi sat for a long time with the gun in her lap, and Theroen let her do so in peace. He sat back in his chair, contemplating her, believing he knew which choice she would make. At last, Naomi took a deep breath and wrapped her fingers around the gun’s handgrip.

For a moment, Theroen thought that this was the end, that he had misjudged her, and that in but another instant there would be no more Naomi and no more hope. Then she leaned forward, set the gun in the box that rested still on the coffee table, and looked up at him.

“I’m opening another bottle of wine,” she said, and she stood.

Theroen nodded and, watching as she moved toward the kitchen, said, “Bring another glass, if you wouldn’t mind.”

* * *

Naomi came with him to the fountain, and they sat there together in silence for some time, waiting for Two and her companions to arrive. Theroen tried not to worry about her safety. He could only hope that wherever it was she had ended up, it was safe from the eyes of the Children. There was no point in turning it over and over again in his mind. Still, it was nearly impossible to stop.

They had not spoken of her desire for death any further, and though he had not promised to keep any secrets, Theroen had no intention of telling anyone else about it. In the morning, he and Naomi had exchanged only a few words before making their way to the park, moving along the darkened pathways until they reached the Bethesda Fountain.

“Someone is coming,” Naomi said now, and Theroen tilted his head, listening. Indeed, he could hear the sound of footsteps on the asphalt pathway. Soon the party, whoever they were, would reach the stairs and be visible.

“It is likely them, but be prepared to deal with security,” Theroen said, and Naomi nodded. Neither was worried about being caught in the park after hours; between Naomi’s aura and Theroen’s mental abilities, there were few humans on the planet they could not charm, especially now that they no longer looked like trauma victims. Violence would not be necessary.

Naomi’s face was almost entirely healed; one would have to look closely to see the last ghosts of the burns from the night before. Her arm, too, was doing well. For his part, Theroen felt much better. There was still some stiffness when he moved his right arm, but the stabbing pain had long since dissipated. While it often came with its share of sadness and pain, he reflected, one could certainly identify advantages to being a vampire.

“Theroen?” someone said, and when he glanced up he saw Two’s silhouette at the top of the stairs. He would have known it even without her voice to help.

“We are here, my love,” he called back, standing up and walking forward. He saw two other silhouettes join the first, and the trio began to descend the stairs. Behind him, he heard Naomi step forward as well. Both groups met at the bottom of the stairs.

“OK … everyone look away for a second,” Two said, and without waiting to see if anyone had complied with her request, she flung her arms around Theroen’s neck, pulling him down and kissing him. Theroen tightened his own arms around her waist, lifting her up off her feet and holding her to him.

“How disgustingly adorable,” Sasha said, her tone dripping with sarcasm but good natured, and Theroen felt Two laugh around his lips. He set her back down.

“Told you to look away,” Two said, and Sasha nodded.

“Yes, well …” she turned to Theroen and Naomi. “It is good to see you both alive. I ... trust that Two has informed you of our losses.”

“Sasha, I’m so sorry,” Naomi said, and the Ay’Araf woman nodded, scrubbing a hand across her face and taking a deep breath.

“We have all lost people,” she said. “I lost a husband once and it hurt like this, but that was so long ago, and this pain is so new and fresh. Still, it gladdens me to see you. Both of you. It gives me hope.”

Naomi glanced over at Theroen at this, but he made no effort to acknowledge the look. If their presence gave Sasha hope even now, on the night after her patron had been slain, who was he to deny that comfort?

Naomi turned to Leonore. “It is good to see you as well.”

The Eresh woman gave Naomi a skeptical glance but said only, “Indeed. These are terrible times.”

“They are,” Theroen agreed. “And as much as we might enjoy discussing them in front of this lovely view, such things are probably best done back at Naomi’s apartment.”

“A change of clothes would be awesome,” Two said, glancing down at her rumpled blouse. “Mine smell like smoke.”

“And Sasha’s are covered in blood,” Naomi said. “Yes, I think we can do something about that. I may not have anything that will fit you very well, Two.”

“Not surprised,” Two said. “You’re about eighty feet taller than I am. It’s OK.”

They began to walk in silence toward Naomi’s apartment, none of them willing to begin the discussion yet. Theroen found himself lagging behind with Two. He stared up through the trees at the few stars visible beyond.

“You OK?” Two asked him after a time, and Theroen glanced at her.

“As well as can be expected, considering all that happened last night,” he said. Two shook her head.

“No, that’s … I’m feeling something. You’re far away.”

Theroen raised his eyebrows. “Am I? Forgive me, Two. I am greatly concerned about what will happen next. We have come to a crucial juncture, and the people to whom I would most like to turn for advice have all passed on.”

“I keep forgetting they’re gone,” Two said. “William, and Ashayt, and … and Jakob. It keeps catching me off guard, and every time it’s like I can feel something inside of me snapping, and I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.”

“Your life has been grief heaped upon grief,” Theroen said, putting a hand on her shoulder. Two looked up at him and shook her head.

“I’m not asking for pity, hon. It’s not any better for Naomi, or Sasha, or even Leonore. She lost James, and … she really cared about him. This whole thing is my fault.”

“Two—”

“I understand it now, why they need Tori. Without her, they’re just not good enough. Jakob was
destroying
them. Sure, maybe they would have taken out some of us, but they’d have lost more than we would after the initial surprise was gone. If they didn’t have her, he’d still be alive, and so would Ashayt, and they’d be in trouble. But they
do
have her, because I left her alone in Ohio, because I’m stupid and selfish and all I cared about was finding my way back to what you’d given me.”

“You had no way of knowing,” Theroen said.

“It doesn’t matter!” Two exclaimed, and the others turned their heads, surprised by the outburst. “Jesus … what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to discuss it,” Naomi said from up ahead. “We’re all going to sit down and figure out what to do. There is no sense working yourself up over it now, Two.”

“Sure, right, might as well wait and get worked up later,” Two grumbled, and Naomi glanced over her shoulder, a grim smile on her face.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, and Two nodded.

They walked on in silence. Theroen could sense that, despite Naomi’s advice, Two was having a hard time not dwelling on the subject. He could feel hurt and guilt, anxiety and despair rolling off her, and he wished he could do something to help. He settled for taking her hand, and when she looked up at him, he smiled and tried to convey to her feelings of warmth and comfort. Two squeezed his hand and nodded, as if she understood. Together like that, they continued the walk back to Naomi’s apartment.

* * *

They had gathered around Naomi’s living room, sitting on couches and chairs, sipping wine or blood or bourbon and glancing from time to time at each other. Each, it seemed, was waiting for someone else to begin. The three women who had come from the hotel were dressed in clean clothes. Two was wearing a pair of Naomi’s jeans with the cuffs rolled up, the waist cinched tight with a black leather belt, and a simple black T-shirt. Sasha and Leonore were similarly dressed, though the clothes were short on the tall Russian woman and a little tight on Leonore’s curvier frame.