Blood Rules (34 page)

Shit.

“
Would
a bite heal me?” She said it with such rawness that he almost didn't notice that she'd said
bite
instead of just
a drink of blood
.

“562 wants to bite you?” he asked.

“She said she'd heal me, but only with an exchange. I took that to mean she wants my blood, too.”

This was no time to mince words with Taraline. “I'm not sure what her mere blood would do to someone with dymorrdia. But I'll bet 562 is thinking that an exchange would hold even more power than a drink. It'd make you into a monster. A vampire.”

The word seemed to hover there, as dark as her veil.

Then she asked softly, “When you became one, did you have scars that disappeared?”

“I had dyslexia.” He supposed that was a scar of sorts. “My cognitive process improved. But I'm not sure it's the same as what you're suggesting.”

“I'm only thinking my appearance might be . . .” She sighed. “That this burden”—she pointed to her veil—“might be lifted.”

“Is it worth the trade of your soul?”

Taraline's veil fluttered, the lantern light making her look like a statue in a cemetery, but she didn't answer.

Maybe she didn't have one to give.

T
he next night, after sleeping throughout the day, Gabriel came awake, feeling a body stretched out next to him.

A furry body that wasn't as big as most adult humans'.

When he realized that Chaplin was cuddled up to him, he rested his hand on the dog. It reminded him of the early days in the New Badlands, when the canine had welcomed him into his and Mariah's home and had stuck to him like brown on old tree bark.

Hey, boy,
Gabriel thought to the dog.

He could hear Chaplin's mind stirring since he was already awake, but there was a disturbed heaviness that sneaked into Gabriel's chest, too.

He didn't even ask what was wrong with the dog. Just before dawn, word had gotten around about how Mariah had exchanged with 562.

Chaplin just sighed, and Gabriel rubbed his side.

She's beyond me now,
the dog thought. He sighed again, longer, wearier.
I remember when I first came into the Lyanders' home. She was a little girl with such big eyes—eyes that were so curious as they watched the world. Her dad told me to protect her, but I would have, anyway, even if he hadn't asked me.

Clearly, even an Intel Dog didn't know what to do with Mariah now. And, although things had seemed bleak before, this seemed to bury Gabriel.

Chaplin didn't move, except for his shallow breathing.
I used to try to get her to confront what was within her—the animal—just as everyone else in the community had faced what was within
them
. And she did become comfortable with herself. But I didn't realize that seeing her embrace it so fully would be like this.

She's an alpha,
Gabriel thought.
It just took her a long time to accept it.

He recalled how Mariah had been ushered into the were-world—through what pretty much amounted to a rape.

Chaplin sensed his musings and winced, fully understanding. When he laid his head on Gabriel's arm, the dog looked like old pictures of any other canine, with big, watery eyes that didn't quite understand their masters, although they loved them unconditionally just the same.

In that moment, Gabriel knew that Chaplin would keep his distance from Mariah because it hurt too much to see what was happening to her.

Should
all
of them be doing the same thing?

They stayed like that for a while, until a voice called out of the silence Gabriel had sought when he'd left Taraline alone.

It was the oldster. “Gabriel?”

“Yes.”

He was standing in the nook's entrance, outlined by Gabriel's vampire vision.

“You need to come outside. Everyone should.”

And the old man was off to fetch the others before Gabriel could ask why.

When he went outside into the dusk with Chaplin, they found Pucci and Hana standing opposite three monsters, the likes of which he'd never seen.

One was a creature that resembled a very tall, chubby blob of faceless stone—it'd been wearing a hood and cape. The second was a thing with the top half of a bearded man and the bottom of a big, thick snake—he'd also been covered until now, as he shed his cloak. The third was a normal-enough-looking guy with reddish-gold hair; a small, neatly trimmed mustache; and a wardrobe befitting a gentleman who'd rustled up the best of the gray garb from the asylum.

Chaplin began pacing around Gabriel while the gentleman greeted Gabriel with a nod, just as if he saw vampires all the time. A few seconds later, after Taraline came out, too, the man smiled and bowed, like he knew her.

“I apologize for showing up unannounced, but I brought a couple of friends out here so we could formally meet.”

Taraline, who'd collected herself from what had to have been a stunning conversation with Gabriel last night, acknowledged the man, then said to everyone, “This is the were-puma who sped me out of GBVille. Hiram, yes?”

“Yes,” he said. “My friends Neelan and Keesie”—he indicated the man-serpent and then the stone blob—“accompanied me. Not to be rude, ma'am, but since I'm a were, I took the opportunity to scent out the area around the asylum. The trail led out here, and I remembered it was near where I dropped off Taraline.”

So their tawnyvale masking hadn't thrown off any were-creatures.

Gabriel sensed Mariah coming outside, too. That glow on her skin seemed to have suffused their link, as well, making it burn with the distance of a sun. Destructive if you got too close, glorious with just enough space between.

Chaplin halted to the side of Gabriel, as if using his body to block him from Mariah.

She didn't notice, though, because she was focused on the stone blob and snake man. Then, as if she knew them, she came forward. “You escaped in one piece.”

They bowed their heads, almost as if she were of a higher rank.

Neelan peered up and said, “You're quite lovely out of your were-body.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Mariah shifted, embarrassed.

Gabriel could feel the emotion tumbling through their link. It was like he was getting pulled into it, a tunnel that would char him alive.

A result of 562's stronger blood?

Something within him wrestled back the helplessness, unwilling to be consumed. Maybe Gabriel could be as strong as she was, if he would take what 562 had to offer, too.

Their three visitors kept their end-all-be-all gazes on Mariah while Hana leaned toward her, as if she were subtly taking up her back. Meanwhile, Pucci wandered away from Mariah, toward Gabriel.

“We heard that a couple of you returned to the hub last night,” Neelan the man-serpent said. “Why?”

He was speaking to Mariah, not the oldster.

“We wanted to see what was happening in the aftermath of the asylum trip,” she said. “A shadow person told us how some escaped monsters have been barricading the hub. You've pretty much taken over.”

“For the time being,” Neelan said, moving side to side as he balanced on his scaled tail.

The Badlanders glanced at each other, as if every one of them knew that things were about to change. It was in the air.

Neelan said, “The government was holding every kind of monster you can imagine, except for demons. Authorities wouldn't have anything to do with them because they work off possession of human bodies. Their abilities come from a mental place that turns physical, unlike us. And, yes, we've all been rather busy.”

“How about those sentinels?” Gabriel asked. “Did you get rid of them?”

Hiram the were-puma chuckled. “Those bastards retreated out of the asylum early on, and we haven't heard hide nor hair of them since. We think they're somewhere in the hub, hiding like we monsters used to.”

Neelan was a little less flippant. “Our monsters didn't catch them leaving GBVille. That's why we're assuming they're still there. But our faster creatures did intercept the humans who were running toward the emergency comm station.”

The oldster stood between Mariah and Gabriel. “Why were those sentinels keeping you inside that asylum? What was the government doing to you?”

Pucci added, “Were they trying to create some kind of monster army out of your genetic material?”

When Hana glanced at him, he said, “That's what I'd do if I were them.”

“No, sir,” Hiram said. “I heard of no plans for an army. It's only that humans are curious about how some of us are able to live so long, adapt so well, and heal so quickly. They're looking for ways to become like us without all the less appealing traits, such as being awful to look upon if you're a Civil monster like Neelan or Keesie, or craving raw meat and drinking blood if you're a Red like me.”

“Red?” Gabriel asked.

Hiram grinned. “A nickname for blood drinkers. We're two different camps, us preters, but we started getting along like gangbusters in this asylum once we apologized for giving all monsters that water-robbing reputation. Most Civils don't love to be thought of that way.”

Neelan merely kept his gaze on Mariah, and it was almost as if he were reluctant about admiring her. Maybe it was because she was a Red. Then again, she'd charged into that asylum like a savior, and even the Civils would think she was pretty decent for that.

The Badlanders had gone quiet, getting used to the notion that humans might want to be like monsters, but without the ugliness and bloodlust. But of course that'd be the case. Humans had been searching for eternal or extended life all along, even way back when they'd first discovered 562.

Neelan said, “We kept hearing about genetic tampering for the elite in particular. The first to receive any services would be corporate bigwigs and government officials.”

“Yes,” Hiram said. “Buy your way up the food chain, be the first to inoculate yourself from all disease. Why not? The government's been catering to the elite for years and no one seemed to be willing to challenge the status quo.”

Neelan kept swaying on his tail. “The geniuses in the labs were injecting monster blood into test subjects, but they could never find a way to change them into monsters fully.”

That was because an exchange would've been needed, Gabriel thought. But he wondered what could happen to humans if they had regular injections. Might they get stronger, healthier . . . ?

Then an awful notion crowded Gabriel's head. Had the government found out what made 562 tick?

No. 562 would never have allowed the authorities inside its brain.

The chubby stone creature clapped its hands together, and a tiny hole opened up in its otherwise blank face.

“Busy, busy, we been busy in the hub.”

Then, seemingly from the folds of Keesie's hard skin, something popped out and landed on the ground.

Gabriel couldn't believe it as he stared at the gremlin that was cackling at Keesie's big feet. The thing's ears had grown way longer than the normal bunny size, and it was just as barfyellow and ugly as it'd been in 562's image/thoughts.

A stream of flame escaped from Neelan's mouth and barely caught the pest in the ass. It scuttled off toward some rocks.

Chimeras, Gabriel thought. Fire-breathing monsters of myth, but they were all too real.

Neelan rolled his eyes at Keesie. “Next time, check your flab for gremlins.”

Then he slithered toward Mariah, as if drawn to her. “The main reason we came out here is to tell you we caught a pack of beast dogs outside the hub. We think they were on your trail, but monsters took them out. It's not as safe out of the hub as you might believe.”

“Are you telling us to run?” Mariah asked.

“No,” Neelan said, winding his tail into a comfortable position. “We meant to ask you if you'd, perhaps, consider coming with us to GBVille, where it's much more secure.”

“That's the truth,” Hiram added, shooting Taraline a wink. “And besides that, I think it'd be spiffy if the heroes didn't miss out on the rest of the rebellion.”

I
n what used to be an asylum office, I watched a group of vampires crouch, then let out a primal yell just before jumping up toward the ceiling and crashing into it, sending down a shower of debris.

Unscathed, they landed, laughed, and sprang upward again while creating a shatterproof skylight that would allow in a peek of the moon and could shut out the sun with a sliding door. Stucco and debris kept raining down as I stepped back even farther to avoid the dust. The vampires—ex-prisoners of the asylum—sped about cleaning up the mess, almost before a lot of it even hit the floor. Above us, the nearly full moon posed in the mottled sky. It'd be a big night tomorrow, when it bloomed all the way.

With a full moon, I was finally going to see what I was made of.

I'd experimentally changed into were-form only once since the exchange with 562 about a week ago, and I hadn't found myself to be too much different, although something seemed to be growing inside me, almost like it was waiting to make an appearance. But I was stronger, for certain. Quicker. I hadn't known what else I'd expected.

Vampire, gremlin, or tik-tik tendencies? The ability to leap a tall building in a single bound?

I had no idea because 562 had gone into a quiet state after revealing her story to me and Gabriel, so it wasn't as if she were mentoring me or anything. It could've been that she was saving herself up for the full moon. If so, I wasn't sure I liked the idea of that.