Thirst No. 4 (33 page)

Brutran ignores my last remark and tries her best to deflect the heat I pour her way. She points to Shanti. “She damaged the effectiveness of our Array. She’s not to get anywhere near the Cradle.”

“That’s for me to decide,” I say.

“I’ve done my best to accommodate you, Alisa, but this isn’t open to discussion. The kids will reject her disruptive influence.”

“Everything is open to discussion!” I snap. “We hit four high members of the Source and they hit back and killed how many trillions of brain cells in the Cradle? Half the kids have nosebleeds, and that’s just the beginning. We have to go after Haru and his closest allies next. And if Shanti can help us with that, then so much the better.”

“She can’t,” Brutran says.

My patience is as exhausted as I am.

“Get out of here,” I say.

She goes to protest but thinks better of it and leaves. But not before giving Umara another glance. It’s clear the woman doesn’t fit into Brutran’s equations.

I cross the room and lie on the bed and stare at the ceiling. I’m glad my friends have arrived and wish I had more energy to greet them properly. Fortunately, we have Seymour to put everything into perspective.

“It’s great you two have formed such a tight bond,” he says.

I chuckle. “Ding dong, the Wicked Witch is almost dead.”

Shanti sits beside me and squeezes my hand. “You can’t keep this up. Even you have your limits. You have to rest.”

“She can rest later,” Umara says, sitting in a corner chair. “The next attack is the key. We have to risk everything. Haru will do the same. He’ll try to gather as many of the Source as are left.” She pauses. “Did you kill the four?”

“I let Kram go.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d just shot his daughter in the heart. And because I need physical weapons to rain down on Haru and his pals after we have removed their psychic weapons.”

Umara frowns. “Kram’s a dangerous man. He’s close to Haru.”

“I honestly think he’s sick of Haru.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Umara says.

Seymour sits on my other side and studies me. He tries to keep his smile warm but I can tell he’s worried. “Your left eye doesn’t look so good. It’s bloodshot,” he says.

“I got that fighting the bad guys,” I say.

Unfortunately, Umara knows better. “You’ve got blood on your hands,” she says.

“I need a shower,” I say.

“That kind of blood doesn’t wash off,” Umara says.

Her remark takes me back to the Middle Ages, to the time of Landulf of Capua, the evil necromancer, and Dante the leper castrato, the two who were really one. In those days I killed an innocent woman, ripped out her heart, so I could get to Landulf. But it was all a trick and my hands ended up with red stains I was unable to wash off. Until I was able to see through Dante’s lies.

“Lisa,” I whisper.

“What’s the matter with Lisa?” Shanti asks nervously.

“She was killed. It was an accident,” Umara says quickly, trying to save me the burden of explaining.

Shanti’s eyes burn with tears. “But she stayed in Truman. I thought she would be safe.”

“No place is safe these days,” Matt says, rubbing Shanti’s shoulders. I take her hand.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Shanti’s devotion to me never wavers.

“People who get close to me have a bad habit of dying
young. Lisa was just another example. But at least I can protect you. I agree with Brutran. I don’t think you should get near the Cradle.”

“But you need me to shield you from it.”

“That’s the problem. I’m a part of it now. You would just get in my way.”

“I don’t understand,” Shanti says.

“I don’t either,” Umara says. “Your decision isn’t logical. You’ve explained how Shanti sheltered you from the negative effects of the Cradle. We might not understand how she does it, but if it works, we should have her present.”

“It’s too dangerous,” I say.

“I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions,” Shanti says. “If I can help, I need to help. I know you would do the same for me.”

I smile at the innocence of her love. “But we’re using demons to kill demons. How can we be sure an angel will be welcome in the room?”

“Put her in a nearby room,” Umara says. “But keep her close.”

Love and logic are a hard combination to argue against.

“We’ll see. I still want to think about it,” I say.

“While you’re at it, give me something to do,” Seymour says.

“I have the perfect job for you. You’re going to give the kids their vaccine shots.”

Seymour grimaces. “I hate needles.”

I sit up. “So do kids. Even these ones. You’re the perfect one to take care of them. Find Brutran and ask her to help organize the children into a line outside the clinic. Matt will give you enough preloaded syringes to inject them. Work fast, we’re going to start our next session as soon as they’re ready.” I pause. “Now, Shanti, Seymour, I need to talk to Matt and his mother alone. Could you please excuse us?”

Shanti and Seymour leave reluctantly. Seymour in particular doesn’t like being kept in the dark. From my position on the bed, I gesture to a box in the corner.

“Matt. That’s the box I want you to give Seymour. Make sure he uses those needles and doesn’t bum any off of Charlie. This is important.”

Matt goes over and picks up the box. He doesn’t ask.

Umara taps on the super-hard plastic that acts as my window.

“It would take a tank shell to penetrate this,” she mutters.

I glance at her son. “Did you happen to bring any Telar grenades with you?” I ask.

Matt nods. “We have a few boxes in the trunk.”

“You plan ahead,” I say.

“What do you want to talk about that’s so private?” he asks.

“We have a problem. Umara, I suspected it might be an issue when you gave me the vials of blood. But after the Cradle’s last attack on the Source, I’m even more concerned.”

“What is it?” Matt asks. His mother has already filled him
in on how we’re going after the Source. I’m not surprised when she speaks up.

“It’s Haru’s blood,” Umara says.

Matt’s puzzled. “It’s not authentic?”

“It’s perfectly authentic,” Umara says.

“Therein lies the problem,” I say. “In this last session, the Cradle had trouble penetrating the Source’s Link. Then I noticed some of the blood we held was resonating with a guard outside their door. It was because she was the grandchild of one of the four. Of course her blood was not identical but it was close enough. We were able to invade her mind and force her to kill the other guards and blow open the door. She was only able to kill one of the four before they killed her but that’s neither here nor there. The point remains that the grandfather’s blood allowed us to home in on both of them.”

Matt nods. “The blood bond between close relatives.”

“Haru is Umara’s son,” I say. “Matt, he’s your brother. When the Cradle focuses everything we’ve got on him, you two are going to feel it. It could kill both of you.”

The room is silent a long time. Matt looks stunned.

“He’s my brother?” he whispers, turning to his mother. “Why did you hide it from me?”

Umara meets his pained gaze. “You hated him so much.”

Matt shakes his head. “You hate him as well.”

“I do. But I love him too.”

“Enough to protect him?” Matt asks.

“No. Never,” Umara replies.

Matt nods slowly, turns back to me. “What’s the risk here?”

“I don’t think you’re a major risk,” I say to Matt. “Your father was Yaksha, the most powerful vampire who ever lived. Vampire DNA is much more complex than human DNA. When you rescued me in Arosa, I told you that you were your father’s son and you thought I was flattering you. But I was telling you the truth. You’re more vampire than Telar.”

He looks to Umara. “Is that true, Mother?”

She turns to us. “Yes.”

I can see she wants me to stop talking but I feel an obligation to continue. “But like Haru, Umara, you’re a hundred percent Telar. The attack on him is going to resonate with every blood cell in your body.”

“It’s like Matt says. It’s a risk we have to take.”

“Not necessarily,” I say. “We’ll have the blood of the other Source members. If we can pierce their Link, we can get them to turn on Haru. We might not have to use his blood at all.”

“Too risky,” Umara says. “You might kill everyone in the Source except Haru. He still commands the Telar. If he sees he’s cornered, he’ll definitely release the virus. I know him.”

“I’m sure you know him better than anyone. But you can’t predict how the battle will go. Chances are, if we do manage to break their Link, we’ll quickly focus on the weakest member of the group and try to force them to attack the others. We can
have this person concentrate on killing Haru. Again, we can do this without bringing Haru’s blood into the mix.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Matt says.

“I want to try it this way,” I say.

“You say that as if you’re going to get a second chance,” Umara says. “You’re not. You have to attack what’s left of the Source, using the blood of all its surviving members, otherwise it won’t work.”

“Why not?” I ask.

“Words don’t exist to describe how a psychic Link forms. But from experience I know if you don’t attack from all sides, you’ll fail.” She stops and stares at me, her eyes sad. “You need to trust me, Sita.”

Her desire for my trust is sincere. Yet she is lying about the need to attack the Link from all sides. I hear the lie plainly, although it seems Matt believes his mother. At the same time he appears grateful to me.

“Thank you for explaining the dangers ahead of time,” he says.

“It was the least I could do.” I don’t add,
after what I did to Teri
.

Matt continues to think. “I might be able to help break the Source.”

“You have no experience with Links,” Umara says. “Leave this to Sita and me. It will work out, I’m confident.”

Another odd remark from Umara. My confidence level is
low. We couldn’t pierce a four-person Link without outside help. How are we going to take down the last of Haru’s people?

Umara knows something she’s not saying.

“I need you to take charge of security,” I say to Matt. “We have no idea what Brutran and her buddies will do if we fail.”

“Or succeed,” Umara adds.

“Do we want anyone leaving this building?” Matt says.

“A lot of good people work here,” I say.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He’s right. I don’t want to answer it.

I
decide to introduce Umara honestly to the Cradle, even though I know Brutran and her people will eventually hear about it. I can only imagine the Wicked Witch’s shock when she hears that the insignificant chick Freddy’s been hanging out with is actually the oldest person on the planet.

In reality, I have no choice but to be honest with the Cradle. The moment we link, they will know there’s something unusual about Umara. Also, the way I introduce her is designed to give the kids confidence.

“Umara has fought the Telar for thousands of years. She’s the one who supplied us with the blood we’re using to lock onto their oldest members. She’s had centuries of experience with Links. We’re going to need that experience this time around. More important she’s the strongest natural
psychic on earth. In a single stroke, she’ll double our power.”

For the most part, the kids, on both floors, mutter their approval. But Lark has to stand and take the floor. He has changed his clothes and wiped away his blood but he’s still looking shaky.

“Everything Alisa says sounds impressive. But she fails to mention several important points. Umara isn’t a member of the Cradle. She hasn’t been initiated. She hasn’t made a sacrifice to the powers who stand behind us. Even you, Alisa, didn’t try to avoid these requirements. Surely Umara can’t be treated any differently.”

Before I can answer, Umara stands and speaks in a strong voice. “I’m ready to abide by your initiation requirements. Let’s begin and I’ll offer you a sacrifice none of you will forget.”

The lights are dimmed, the candle is lit, the prayers are intoned. The power in the room is immense and we have hardly begun. With Umara on my left instead of Lark, and Shanti sitting out of sight in the room directly above, I feel almost no head pressure. Nevertheless, the room begins to spin as the etheric tornado enters and I feel the usual separation from my body. I am still a little dizzy when Lark stops and demands that Umara provide a blood sample of the person she intends to offer to the Familiars.

I have to struggle to open my eyes.

“How innocent does my victim have to be?” Umara asks.

Lark snickers. “Not as innocent as Alisa’s victim.”

Umara plays dumb. “Excuse me, what does that mean?”

“No one is truly innocent,” Lark says impatiently. “Give the person’s blood to Jolie and let’s continue.”

“As you wish.” Suddenly twisting her left hand counterclockwise, Umara snaps Lark’s wrist so violently that his bone pierces his skin. With her other hand, she makes a fist and strikes him on top of the head, stunning him, probably with the intention of keeping him in place. Reaching past me to Jolie, she gives the girl a healthy sample of Lark’s blood. The little girl licks it off Umara’s hand and holds it in her mouth. Umara looks to me as if to say,
You better take over.

I’m still reeling from the brilliance of Umara’s choice.

Although Lark believed that he led the Cradle, it was obvious he was a cocky bastard with no friends. Furthermore, his refusal to obey my simple instruction during our last attack led to the most painful blow the Cradle had ever suffered. As the children settle down and prepare for the final battle, I don’t sense a single thread of regret or sympathy in either room.

“Now let’s close our eyes and join hands,” I say.

I repeat the original invocation and then concentrate on the three key phrases. “Enter us now and forever so that we may do thy will. We invoke the power that destroys. For we are one with thy power.”