Wormwood Echoes
Authors: Laken Cane
Wormwood Echoes
By Laken Cane
Copyright © 2015 Laken Cane
All rights reserved.
Edited by Kelly Eurton Reed
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, association with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. Ebook copies may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share with a friend, please buy an extra copy, and thank you for respecting the author’s work.
For more information about the author, you can find her online at
www.facebook.com/laken.cane.3
,
www.amazon.com/author/lakencane
I wanted to keep listing the names of everyone I’d like to dedicate these books to, but the list is so very long and I’m terrified I’ll leave someone out!
So this book is for all the fans—you make me so happy to be a writer. For my fan club, crew, and street team—my Crewsaders. You are such bright spots in my days. For all the people who pimp my books, work incredibly hard to promote me, and are so very dedicated.
A writer’s life can be lonely. You all make that far from the truth for me.
I thank you for the cards, the gifts, the feedback, the listening, the shoulders, and the enthusiasm.
Thank you for taking time to write reviews, Facebook friending me, telling others about the books, and messaging me to check on me. Thank you for writing me to say how much you love the characters and the world in which they live.
This book is for you.
Thank you, Team Berserker, and thank you, Team Owen. Your discussions are lively, entertaining, and really do make me LOL. A lot.
Thank you for being my friends. I treasure you.
This book is for you.
And thank you, my Z Girl.
This book is for you.
Table of Contents
She ran through Wormwood, her heart heavier with each step she took.
Gunnar the Ghoul was gone.
He’d fled his home for fear of the assassin.
That was her fault.
She should have killed the assassin. She should have taken his head to Gunnar.
She hadn’t, though, and after she’d lost her own head and lay mending for a fucking
month,
Gunnar had fled.
He’d figured she’d abandoned him, maybe, and she had no way of telling him otherwise. Her crew had been too concerned for her and busy protecting the city to think of the ghoul.
She stopped running, threw back her head, and screamed, “Gunnar!”
Her voice echoed through the vast graveyard like the wail of agony it was, and when she got no answer she fell to her knees.
She had lost him, and it hurt like a motherfucker.
Alone but for the moon, she allowed herself to cry, to mourn.
“Gunnar,” she whispered.
She’d searched Wormwood for three weeks, every single night, hoping he’d appear in front of her, hands reaching for his Baby Ruth candy bars.
Your Highness…
She pulled a bag from her pocket and placed it carefully on the ground.
Gunnar wasn’t coming.
He’d always been there.
But he wasn’t coming.
She wanted to get angry at his…his
abandonment,
but how could she? She hadn’t killed the fucking assassin.
She jerked her head up at a sudden, barely there sound that let her know she had company.
Simon Kelic rushed with stealthy speed into the clearing, making her believe for one heart stopping second that Gunnar had returned.
Crushing disappointment followed the surge of hope.
And that pissed her off.
He had his children at his back—at least some of them—and his exotic favorite, Iker, at his side.
She climbed to her feet, leaving the bag of Baby Ruth candy bars on the ground.
Just in case.
Iker, as curious—or nosy—as a child, leaned over and reached for the bag.
“Fuck off,” she told him.
“Girl, you are starting to—”
“Iker,” Simon said, his voice tired.
“I know, I know.” Iker held up his hands and backed away, glaring at Rune the entire time. “Mustn’t upset the princess.”
“The only princess here is you, dude.” Then she ignored him and looked at the vampire master. “What do you want, Kelic?”
She held her breath, hoping with every part of her that he’d say he knew where Gunnar was.
He didn’t.
“There’s something wrong with one of my vampires. I have come to ask you to look at her.”
“I’m not a doctor.”
“Please, Rune.” He hesitated. “I’m worried.”
“What do you think I can do? Ask me to feed her and I’m kicking your ass.”
“I’d never suggest that. And I don’t know. We don’t get sick. But…there’s something wrong. Something terrible.”
“Besides,” Iker said, unable to remain quiet, “this shit could spread. You’re responsible for the Others, so get your ass to responsibilizing.”
She softened, just the slightest bit, because fuck if Iker’s stupid word didn’t make her think of Gunnar. “Fine,” she said. “Take me to her.”
Simon tossed a quick look of admiration at Iker, whose black eyes held a spark of smug pride. Yeah, they were playing her, but fuck them. The young vampire wasn’t wrong. She
was
responsible for the Others.
She followed Simon to the outskirts of Spiritgrove, to a quietly bland, unremarkable house. It was large, true, but looked nothing like the gothic nightmares Nicolas Llodra had preferred.
It was a white two-story on Mills street, with a weeping willow tree in the middle of the well-kept yard. There was even a white picket fence.
“You’re trying a little too hard,” she murmured. She swept the area with her narrowed gaze, picking apart dark shadows the moon and streetlights did little to illuminate.
He shrugged. “I’m a simple man, Rune. I like home and family as much as the next guy.”
She laughed.
The interior of the house was nearly as ordinary as the outside. Other than the fact that it was a lot more crowded, it wasn’t that different from
her
home.
People—vampires, mostly—sat on couches and the floor watching a giant flat screen TV. There was an animated movie playing, and the watchers seemed completely immersed. They looked up at the newcomers’ entrance, then went right back to their movie.
“Dude,” Rune said. “That’s fucked up.”
“Why?” Simon sounded the tiniest bit amused.
“She thinks we should all be out drinking blood and having orgies,” Iker said. “She’s lost touch with her own kind.”
And for once, he didn’t sound angry. He sounded almost…sad.
She might have to rethink her impression of the remarkable Iker.
“But we’re not really her own kind,” Simon said, gently. “Any more than the humans are.”
She said nothing.
She had no kind.
Then they walked from the living room into a huge kitchen, and Rune breathed a sigh of relief.
Three vampires had their human bite junkies spread across the enormous wooden table and were busy having dinner. The junkies, two females and one male, were naked and dirty.
As she watched, one of the junkies opened her eyes a little and saw Rune. “Oh,” she said, pushing at the vampire on top of her. “It’s Rune Alexander.”
He growled and pulled his fangs from her groin. His glance at Rune was not friendly. “Yeah?” he said. “So?”
“So I wouldn’t mind giving her a little taste, Bobby. Get off me.”
“I told you not to call me that. My name is Robert.
Robert.
”
“Don’t worry, Robert Robert,” Rune said. “I’m not taking her up on her offer.” She gave them a sharp nod. “As you were.”
“Your mood has lifted since we entered the front door,” Simon said. “May I ask why?”
“Because that,” Rune said, pointing at the table of vampires and junkies, “is something I understand. A room full of bloodsuckers watching Shrek is not.”
“Haven’t you noticed the changes to this county since we arrived?” Iker was back to his usual cantankerous self. “My master has cleaned up your city. You have no idea because you’re all wrapped up in your precious princess self.”
Rune faced the young vampire, waving off Simon when he started to rebuke his charge. She stared at the boy for a long moment, acknowledging the sudden heavy silence in the room.
Iker’s gaze was steady, but deep in his eyes she saw a sudden spark of fear.
She smiled.
“I’m a patient princess, kid, but if you push me too far I will hurt you. I will make you afraid. Terrified.” She stepped closer. Got into his space. “You’ll want to chill the fuck out.” She showed him her monster, just for the briefest second.
Iker opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Not so much as a whisper.
Simon nodded approvingly. “I did warn you. Go to the basement and stay there until I summon you.”
Iker didn’t argue. He turned and left the kitchen and never once looked back.
Simon inclined his head. “He’s a handful.”
“And your favorite. I bet he’s got quite a story.” She hesitated. “Don’t torture him.”
Simon paused at a doorway leading from the kitchen. “Torture him? Why would I torture him?”
“For being a disrespectful little son of a bitch?”
He stared. “I’d heard stories of Nicolas Llodra. He was mad, sadistic. I am not. He and I are no more alike than…than he and
you
. His ways are not mine.”
Feeling as though she’d just been taken to task by the master, she shrugged and nodded. “Where’s your sick vampire?”
“Just through here.” He led her from the kitchen, down a rather dark hallway, and finally, he pushed open the door to a spacious room painted in soothing blues and whites.
It could have been mistaken for a human’s room, except for three things.
The boarded over window to reject the sun, the large, ornate coffin in the middle of the floor, and a stench so foul she very nearly refused to continue into the room.
It wasn’t just a bad smell. It wasn’t even the scent of death.
It was a scent she’d never caught before, and it scared the fuck out of her.
Something was very, very wrong inside that room.
“My God,” she said, her hand to her nose. The stench was unbearable. “What the hell is that?”
“She’s rotting.” Simon walked into the room and calmly opened the coffin lid, which made the smell a hundred times worse.
He remained there, staring down into the foul depths, though the horrible smell had to have been attacking his brain.
She understood.
Had it been one of hers sick or wounded, she’d have done the same.
“Why?” She hesitated, then went to peer into the coffin.
The woman lying there had been around twenty-five when she’d turned, and though dark patches of rot appeared on her cheeks and forehead, they couldn’t hide her beauty.
Her hair was dark and thick, framing a heart shaped face with almond eyes and full lips. She was quiet, but aware.
She watched Simon with a gaze so full of trust it made Rune consider that the new master really wasn’t such a bad dude.
Even if he
was
a soulless vampire.
“Master,” the girl whispered.
Her lower lip split when she spoke. Blood didn’t squeeze through the fissures on her newly torn lip—rot did. Purplish-black rot popped out in a putrid mess and slid down her chin like jelly.
Rune pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping she could keep her dinner down.
Simon caressed the girl’s face with the back of his hand, gently. “Shhh, Anna. Rest easy, love.”
She immediately closed her eyes and slept.
He lowered the coffin lid and then beckoned to Rune. “Come into my sitting room. I’ll have coffee brought in.” For a second, a flash of envy streaked across his face.
“You miss it,” she said.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Like I miss the sun.” Then he shrugged. “It is the price of immortality.”
“Would you trade your immortality for the sun?” She walked into a small room and sat in the chair he indicated.
He threw the question back at her. “Would you?”
“If I had to give up coffee? Hell yeah.”
“But then,” he said, his voice smooth and dark, “you don’t have to, do you? You have everything.”
She crossed her legs. “Do I? I think dying a normal death when I’m eighty is preferable to immortality. I’ve never wanted it.”
“That’s because your brain is still human.” He sat down on the chair across from her. “That will change with time.”
She shuddered. “You brought me here to talk about Anna, so let’s talk about Anna.”
He inclined his head, ever respectful, ever agreeable. He didn’t look like a vampire. He looked like a salesman or maybe a high school English teacher. But the vampire was there—one just had to look a little harder to see it.
“First, your coffee.” He smiled at her as one of his human tools brought a tray into the room and sat it carefully on the table between them. “I get pleasure from smelling it, even if I can’t drink it.”
She accepted the cup the young human offered her and took a tentative sip. “It’s good.”
“You sound surprised. We’re not savages in this coven, Rune.”
“Rune,” the human interrupted. “Please. Bite me.” She fell to her knees at Rune’s side, pushed brown hair away from a bruised, bite covered neck, and waited.
Simon rose with a swiftness characteristic of much older vampires and grabbed the girl around her throat. “I apologize, Rune. This one has only the bite on her mind, but she knows better than to—”
The girl gave a ragged, breathless screech, tore herself from Kelic’s grip, and threw her underweight body at Rune. She ripped at her own neck with her nails, drawing blood, perhaps hoping the scent would entice Rune to have a taste.
Rune was not tempted—not even a little bit. “Get off me.” She kept her voice calm, but the girl was starting to piss her off.
“Do it,” the girl said. “Take a taste. Just one.”
And as Rune started to give her a shove that would have sent her into the wall, the bite junkie pressed her bloody fingers to Rune’s lips. “One taste. I can be yours. I don’t like it here.”
Simon growled and yanked her away from Rune. “Cherise,” he said. He didn’t raise his voice, but an older woman—likely Cherise—appeared at once. “Get rid of her.”
Cherise dragged the pleading girl from the room.
Simon shook his head and closed his eyes for a long moment.
“They don’t fear you,” Rune said.
“I am reluctant to abuse the humans, even the bite junkies your humans care nothing about.” He pulled a clean handkerchief from a small box beside her chair and offered it to her. He watched as she wiped her mouth.
She lifted an eyebrow. “That’s because your brain is still human. That’ll change with time.”
Simon smiled. “Touché.”
“Tell me about your vampire.”
“She started feeling unwell three weeks ago. The blemishes appeared shortly after. Two nights ago, she projectile vomited all the blood she’d ingested for breakfast. It was the last meal she was able to consume.”
“That’s…” She shook her head and stuffed the handkerchief into her pocket.
He nodded. “She will be gone before long. Likely a couple of weeks if we don’t find a cure.”
“Is she the only one affected?”
He opened his mouth twice before he was able to get the words out. “Iker became sick this morning.”
Simon’s grief was unmistakable. His favorite was dying.
Shit.
“He looked fine,” she said. “He
seemed
fine.”
“I made him,” the master said. “I know when he’s unwell. I smell Anna’s sickness on him. He will show signs soon. Soon, he will know.” For a moment, he stared woodenly at the wall.
“What can I do?” she asked. She had to do something. If the vampires were infecting each other…or worse, if they infected the humans, the vampires would have to be destroyed.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what anyone can do.” He looked at her, and his normally calm eyes were full of dark anguish. “But you have to help me. This will wipe us out. If the humans find out—”
“Your coven will be purged.” And fuck if she wasn’t sick of purging vampires. “I’ll take this to the Annex, Simon. I have no choice. Eugene Parish is a friend of the Others. He has the resources to help.”
“No. It doesn’t appear to be affecting humans—only Others. But panic will spread and it will be…chaotic.”
“It’ll be a fucking free for all. I know. But—”
“If we go to ground, Rune, you will not find us.”
“Don’t run. I won’t let him kill you. If he wants to purge, I’ll warn you first. Then you can hide out somewhere close until we get this shit figured out.”
He hesitated.
“Don’t
run,
Simon,” she said, her voice hard. “You’ll end up destroying the entire vampire world if you do.”
“If you don’t help us find a cure, we’re already destroyed.”
“I will help. I’ll do everything I can.”
“Then swear it.” He put a hand on her arm. “Give me your word we will not be destroyed by the Annex, and I’ll trust you.”
She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Dammit. She was getting soft. “I’ll do my best. But I can only swear that I’ll give you warning first, so you can hide. But if you do, don’t go far. The Annex can find a cure.”
She was sure of Eugene’s willingness to help. Why would he go through the trouble of chasing and purging vampires who, without his help, were dead anyway?
She started to leave but stopped at the doorway. “More of them are sick, aren’t they?”
Slowly, he nodded. “A dozen of them so far.”
“How are you getting the infection?”
“I believe the humans we bite are carriers. They are passing it to us.”
“We’ll need to test a couple of your humans.” She hesitated. “And your sick vampires, as well. I’ll let you choose which ones to bring in.”
She left him there, standing with his solemn face and hopeless future, and ran home to her own coven—her crew.
She ran home to Strad Matheson.
The berserker had become as much a part of her life as…feeding. And she needed him, whether she wanted to admit it out loud or not, just as badly.
He was waiting for her, standing still and watchful in the thick shadows of her porch.
She didn’t see him, not at first, but she felt him.
“God, Strad,” she murmured, and walked into his arms.
“What happened?” His voice rumbled into the night, dark and deep and strong.
The tightness inside her started to ease immediately.
She rubbed her cheek against his warmth, inhaling his familiar scent.
“Rune,” he said. “What the fuck happened?”
She sighed and pulled grudgingly away. “I’m okay. But the vampires are sick. They’re infected by something that’s causing them to rot from the inside. It’s spreading through Kelic’s coven.”
He nodded. “We’ll have to purge them.”
“No, Berserker. Eugene is not…”
Jeremy. Eugene is not Jeremy.
“He’s not,” Strad agreed. “But he’ll want them contained.”
“They’ll die anyway if he doesn’t help them. The Annex is pro-Other. He’ll help. Kelic said the humans aren’t getting infected—only the vampires.”
“How are they infecting each other?”
“The humans are carriers. When the vampires feed from them, they get the disease.” She shrugged. “At least that’s what Simon believes.”
“And how are these humans becoming carriers?”
“I have no idea. Eugene will have to test some samples. He’ll figure out what’s making them sick.”
His stare was steady, but held something she did not like.
She didn’t like it at all.
“All Others or just the vampires?” he asked.
“I’ll find out tomorrow. I don’t know anything other than what Simon told me, but this…” she stopped and put a hand to her chest. A vivid image of the bite junkie smearing blood across her lips slammed suddenly into her brain. “Oh.”
Strad closed his eyes.
“You already had the thought, didn’t you?” she whispered.
Why did she always forget she was a vampire?
Or...sort of a vampire.
He nodded, but said nothing. He looked at her, his eyes full of torment and resignation.
She shoved him hard enough to move him back. “
Fuck
you.”
“Sweetheart.” He rubbed his face, then crossed his arms. He didn’t look at her, perhaps unwilling for her to see in his eyes that he’d already given her up for…
“I can’t die,” she said.
He knotted his jaws.
“I can’t
die,
Berserker.”
There were many things worse than death, but she couldn’t think of one that would be worse than going through life rotting into a puddle of putrid jelly.
Brain in a jar.
She clutched her stomach. “God!”
He dragged her to him then, ignoring her resistance, and wrapped her in his arms. For an instant, he wiped out thoughts of the horror to come.
But only for an instant.
“No sign of Gunnar?” He squeezed her, hard.
She knew he was trying to help, knew he was trying to get her thoughts on something a little less horrifying.
“No. He’s gone.” She flinched at the unintentional sound of pain in her words.
Rot. Black, fucking rot.
But she might not even be infected. She could be immune.
So she pushed that worry deep into her mind and hid it beneath piles of other horrors.
She had to.
“He’ll come back,” the berserker said.
“Yeah. He’ll come back and you’ll find the little black-haired baby the Shop took.”
He said nothing, and the silence drew out, long and prickly. At least it seemed that way to her.
But she wouldn’t apologize to him for the words. She’d apologize if he found the baby. She’d apologize if the ghoul returned.
Until then, the berserker was out of luck.
And when her cell rang and she saw Elizabeth’s number on the display, she was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one.