Aria and Will (9 page)

Bergsen’s hand remained on Wilhelm’s shoulder as he
led him inside, past those doors that had opened and closed so often during the
day. Wilhelm wondered suddenly if anyone had come to see Aria. He stopped in
the middle of the lobby and turned his face toward Bergsen. The words tore his
throat like crushed glass but he pushed them out anyway.

“She’s dead.”

Bergsen looked away and nodded. “I know, Will. I
know.”

He motioned for a nurse, and she showed them to an
examination room. Wilhelm sat down on the table, and at last Bergsen let go of
his shoulder.

The words kept coming now, despite the pain, despite
the uselessness of it all. After hours of silence, they refused to stop rising.

“I was going to tell her… I had decided, after we
talked this afternoon. I was going to wait until the fight was over, and I
would have told her. I would have told her I… I would have… But it doesn’t
matter now, does it?”

The nurse cleaning his hand wasn’t giving any sign
that she had heard a word he had said. He looked at Bergsen, who as before
turned his gaze away. Bergsen never did that, some part of Wilhelm’s mind
supplied. Not unless he was keeping something from someone.

“What is it?”

Wilhelm refused to hear Bergsen’s protests that
nothing was going on and simply asked the question again until the man sighed.

“Well, maybe you’ll get another chance to tell her.”

At Wilhelm’s blank look, Bergsen sighed yet again and
passed a hand through his thinning hair. “Cambria. When the orderlies went to
take her body, he wouldn’t let them. He said he turned her.”

* * * *

I woke up with the dying day. I can’t remember much
of what I felt or thought. It’s all very blurry in my mind. What I do remember
is that the first thing I saw when I woke up was Will. He was punching Lorenzo,
and Bergsen and a doctor were trying to stop him. I sat up on my bed and I must
have said something—I must have called for my Sire, I guess, like so many new
vamps do when they first awake—because Will stopped, and turned toward me. His
hand was bandaged, and the side of his face was burned. His eyes were red, as
though he had cried, but I couldn’t imagine why he would have. Of course, with
my mind as fuzzy as it was, there was a lot I didn’t understand. I started
raising my hand toward him. I wanted to ask what had happened, but I couldn’t
manage to form words. Lorenzo walked in front of him and took my hand, sat next
to me on the bed. He spoke, but I’m not sure I heard what he said. I do have
this distinct memory of watching a bead of blood slide down his chin from his
split lip. It was the most fascinating thing I had ever seen. And then Lorenzo
cupped my cheek in his hand, and said my name softly until I looked up into his
eyes.

“It’ll be all right, Childe. You’ll see. Everything
will be all right.”

The door banged shut on Will, and I jumped,
startled. The sound was too loud, the displacement of air too intense on my
skin. Lorenzo got my attention back by offering me his wrist and asking me to
bite and feed. I did just that before I even understood what he was saying.

I never knew until now that Will had decided this
was the night he would tell me. If anything, he was more distant after that. I
could still feel his eyes on me, was still sure he kept as close a watch on me
as he had before, but he felt farther away from me than ever.

And then, there was the way he acted around
Lorenzo. It was a surprise that none of the heated, angry looks he threw at him
ever set fire to my Sire. It was even more surprising that he never staked him.
There were a couple of occasions when I thought he would, but after I asked him
not to kill Lorenzo, Will never touched him again. I doubt he ever forgave him,
though. Even with the way things turned out, even though he and I have been
together for decades, he’ll never forgive Lorenzo for killing me.

Chapter 10

In the stillness of the late night, the sounds of
flesh hitting flesh, of grunts and groans seemed louder even than the clash of
battle had been earlier, metal against metal and battle cries echoing over the
walls. And yet, it was only another battle taking place, another fight, like
the ones that happened nightly in Newhaven—or almost. The difference, this
time, was that both adversaries were vampires, and neither held a weapon.

For three nights, Wilhelm had tried to avoid having
anything to do with either Lorenzo or Aria. He had tried not to look at her
when she first came back to the walls, raw energy bubbling out of her and
shouting to the world what she now was. He had tried not to listen as the two
of them sparred on a slow night, Lorenzo giving advice and pointers to a
fighter who proved herself, as she always had, better than he was. He had
tried—and failed miserably. Everywhere he looked, he saw Aria, her hair, her
eyes, her smile. Her blood.

Tonight, Wilhelm had reached his limits. He had seen
Aria walk away with friends, human friends, encouraged by Lorenzo, and he
hadn’t thought twice about what he would do. Waiting for the right time had
been one of the most difficult things he had done in years. It was fitting that
he had finally caught up with Lorenzo in front of the Remembrance Wall. Above
the bouquet of white roses laid on the pavement, Aria’s name was still on the
list of recent deaths, the V next to her name announcing her fate. Few Guard
members were turned on the battlefield, but she was hardly the first.

“You were supposed to protect Aria.” He punctuated his
words with a punch that Lorenzo managed to avoid. “Not let her die.” Another
punch; this one made contact. “Not turn her.”

Lorenzo took a couple of steps back, and was stopped
by the wall behind him. He ran a hand over his mouth, wiping away some blood.
His lips twisted into a wry smile.

“I never heard you call her Aria before.”

He spat some blood and took a step forward again,
raising his hands in an unconvincing defensive gesture. Wilhelm barely noticed,
too caught in his own thoughts. When had he started thinking of her as Aria? He
had never cared for nicknames. He didn’t mind people calling him Will, better
that than them butchering his name, but he wasn’t one to call anyone by
anything other than their given name.

“Do you think she became someone new when I sired
her?” Lorenzo continued, his voice turning more and more bitter even as he
spoke faster. “She didn’t. She was born to be a fighter. Haven’t you seen her
on the battlefield? She’s increased her speed and skills, and when she learns
to use them fully she’ll be one of the best fighters out there. She might be
better than you, someday. Is that what you’re afraid of?”

Wilhelm never answered, at least not in words. He
started punching again, adding kicks every so often. He had been angry before,
but now he was enraged. As much as he had tried to ignore Lorenzo’s words, to
ignore them like the babblings of a fledgling who knew nothing—since that was
what Lorenzo had proven himself to be, after all—the words had slipped through
his defenses and torn at his mind.

Of course he wasn’t afraid that Aria or anyone else
for that matter might become a better fighter than he was; the town needed more
skilled fighters. But the rest… So long, he had tried to keep her safe, and in
the end, it had all been for nothing. Maybe it had been too late already the
day he had met her, a lost child who thought she could fight with a stake too
big for her small hand.

Lorenzo clearly was tiring. For a while, he had
managed to block part of Wilhelm’s blows, and even return some of them. Now
though his movements were becoming slower, sloppier. One last blow threw
Lorenzo back against the wall, hard enough that his head hit it with a dull
thud. He collapsed, sliding sideways until his temple was resting on the
pavement.

The stake inside Wilhelm’s pocket felt heavier,
suddenly, the familiar shape and weight of it overwhelming. It wouldn’t take
much, and with Lorenzo knocked out, he would never even know what had happened.

Wilhelm heard the running steps, but they didn’t
register with his conscious mind until she was there, between him and Lorenzo,
arms extended on each side of her. Aria. She didn’t even spare a look for
Lorenzo, focusing entirely on Wilhelm right away. Her voice had that breathless
quality of newly turned vampires who forgot they didn’t need to breathe
anymore.

“Please don’t.”

Behind her, Lorenzo stirred a little. His eyes opened
and he blinked, undoubtedly realizing who was in front of him. He didn’t try to
get up. Wilhelm was sure Lorenzo was listening, and trusting Aria to keep him
safe. A Sire hiding behind his Childe—the rage roared louder inside Wilhelm,
and he had some trouble keeping it from his words.

“Get out of the way, Aria.”

She didn’t move an inch. “I’m not going to let you
kill my Sire.”

Wilhelm’s fists clenched and he forced himself to
release them again. His gaze remained on Lorenzo, still lying on the pavement.
Blood was staining the corners of his nose and mouth, and he raised a slow hand
to wipe them off. The scent of blood did nothing to appease Wilhelm’s anger.

“I don’t plan to kill him,” he said, realizing at once
that his tone was less than convincing.

Aria snorted. At last, her arms dropped, but she
crossed them in a defensive manner. “You could have fooled me. What are you
trying to do, then?”

“This doesn’t concern you.”

Another snort. “Really? So you’re not kicking his ass
because he turned me?”

Long seconds trickled by, leaving Wilhelm unable to
answer her. Behind her, Lorenzo struggled to sit up, his back to the wall, and
very carefully looked at anything but the woman protecting him. The way he was
avoiding to look at his own Childe sent a jolt through Wilhelm. He refused to
be that much of a coward. For the first time since she had risen as a vampire,
he made himself meet her eyes. He was almost surprised to discover they hadn’t
changed and were just as deep as he remembered them. His anger vanished all at
once.

“Aria,” he started pleading, “don’t—”

He wasn’t sure what he was pleading for. It didn’t
matter. She didn’t let him finish.

“No.
You
don’t. I am what I am, and you have no
right to beat Lorenzo for it. He’s not your Childe or your minion. He has no
explanation to give you.”

Deep down, Wilhelm knew she was right. Still, every
fiber of his being demanded that he take revenge on Lorenzo. “You have no idea
what you’re talking about.”

A muscle in her cheek twitched. She took a small step
toward him, her eyes sharp as daggers. “Don’t I? I’m a vampire now. My Sire has
been teaching me.”

It was Wilhelm’s turn to snort. “What does your Sire
even know?”

That seemed to give her pause. Was she realizing only now
that her Sire was little more than a fledgling himself? She started turning to
look back at Lorenzo behind her. She stopped mid-movement however, and her eyes
came back to Wilhelm. The hesitation that had flickered through them was gone.

“He knew at least that I wouldn’t be upset if he
turned me.”

Wilhelm refused to consider even for a second that she
might be telling the truth. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I always knew I wanted nothing more than to fight. I
never expected to become a vampire, but it makes sense.”

“Aria—”

“Once in my life, Will!” Her voice had risen, both in
volume and intensity, brimming with exasperation, anger, and even—was it pain?
She took a deep breath in, and when she spoke again, her words were quieter,
calmer, although still as intense. “Once in my life, have faith in me. Believe
that I know what I want.”

Memories rushed to the front of Wilhelm’s mind, other
conversations he had had with Aria—other confrontations. They all seemed to mix
together. Hadn’t it always been about the same thing?

“I never doubted you knew what you wanted.” He sighed.
“That’s why I was always afraid for you. You’ll get yourself… no. You got
yourself killed. The man who was supposed to keep you safe—” His voice wavered
for an instant; he was this man. “—he failed you.”

He expected her to argue. She always did. This time
though, all she did was stare at him. She seemed smaller, suddenly, not
standing quite as tall as she usually did, and the scent coming from her, for
the first time he could recall, was laced with fear.

“You’re right,” she said no louder than a whisper. “He
failed me.”

Arguments, shouting, her usual word games, Wilhelm
could have taken without blinking. These quiet words, however, pierced his
heart better than a stake would have.

“I lost my life,” she continued. “Don’t take my Sire
from me as well.”

Unable to keep holding her gaze, Wilhelm averted his
eyes. Behind Aria, Lorenzo had finally pushed himself back to his feet. The
blood on his face had dried, but the hair on his temple was matted and wet. He
couldn’t have died from a wound to the head, but Wilhelm had been so close to
staking him…

A phantom pain awakened in Wilhelm’s chest, and he
brought a hand to his heart. It had been more than fifty years, but the memory
of the pain that had surged through him when his Sire had died was still vivid,
a burning brand on his flesh, and yet he had been a Master himself when she had
met her end. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like for Aria to lose
her Sire only a few days after she had been turned, when she needed him so
much.

Wilhelm wished she had needed
him
that much.

He wished
he
had been her Sire.

The thought struck without warning, taking Wilhelm by
surprise. He hadn’t had a Childe in decades. He was so tired of being alone.

He looked back at Aria’s face. He wanted to touch her
cheek, take her where they would be able to talk without Lorenzo standing at
her shoulder, and finally tell her…

Tell her…

He had turned away from them and was down the street
before he even knew what he was doing. He found his way to the bar the same
way, his body functioning purely on instinct. He hurt too much. He needed
numbness. Oblivion. He needed to be able to sleep without dreaming of Aria.

* * * *

The pounding in Wilhelm’s skull finally began to
lessen. It didn’t stop—he had drunk far too much for that—but it relented just
enough that he pushed the pillow off his face. Everything was dark in his small
bedroom when he opened his eyes. Darkness was a blessing—while it lasted. The
abruptness of the lights flicking on caught him by surprise and made him groan
in pain.

“Turn ‘t off.”

He fumbled for the pillow and pulled it back over his
head. The lights were turned off again, and slow steps traveled on the side of
the bed to the chair tucked in the corner. For a few moments, Wilhelm caught
himself dreaming. It was Aria, sitting there, close enough for him to reach out
to her. All he needed to do was turn to her, and let it all out. Ask for her
forgiveness. Ask for her friendship, if she could give no more than that. For
more if she could.

The regular beating of a human heart, so regular, so
loud against Wilhelm’s temples, put an end to that fantasy.

“The walls were breached, last night.” Bergsen’s voice
was too loud, even though it rose no higher than a whisper. “The demons spilled
in, went as far as Fifth Street. Human soldiers were fighting until five this
afternoon.”

For the second time, Wilhelm pushed the pillow away.
His mind was bubbling with questions, but none of them came through. All he
could do was try to figure out how long he had been lying there, with empty
bottles still where he had let them fall.

“I won’t presume to think I know how you feel,”
Bergsen continued after the silence had stretched into wordless accusation.
“But I do know we can’t afford to have you lost to the world when we’re under
such an attack. Do you want me to send her away? There are other towns where
she—”

“No.”

Strange how Wilhelm’s throat could feel so parched
after he had drunk so much.

“No,” he repeated, louder, and struggled to sit up.
The bells in his head started ringing louder than ever. “We need her here.”

“I know that. They tell me she was exceptional last
night. But she has no experience leading, and that was what we needed. A
leader.”

“You are a leader,” Wilhelm tried to argue, but right
away Bergsen was shaking his head.

“I can’t lead from a hospital bed. And Carter and
Stevenson aren’t ready yet. If you can’t be on the battlefield next to her…”

Bergsen didn’t need to finish. The alternative was all
too clear in Wilhelm’s mind, even as murky as it was. However hard it was, he
had to pull himself together.

If nothing else, he needed to make sure Aria lived
beyond her fledgling years. She would make a great Master, someday.

* * * *

It’s funny. Even as Bergsen was toying with the
idea of sending me away, Lorenzo was trying to convince me of the same thing.

I remember that battle; it was the biggest we had
had in some time, bigger even than the fight that had led to my siring. It was
sheer torture at dawn to have to leave the field to my human peers, chased away
by the sun and unsure whether the demons would be stopped before they ravaged
the entire town. Lorenzo had to drag me away and I raged all the way back to
the Guard’s quarters. Only when he had closed the door of our tiny apartment
did he say what was on his mind.

“Let’s go away. We don’t need to stay in a town
that demons attack every night. There are still safe places in the world. Quiet
places. We could go there.”