Icarus; The Kindred (A Paranormal Romance) (22 page)

"Go ahead, have fun at my expense. It's never stopped you before."

"I wouldn't know." I slur my words miserably, "Fried brains … remember?"

Iris hauls me up by my shirt collar and out of reflex I go to attempt to break her neck. This does absolutely nothing for me. How could I have forgotten that right hook?

After hitting me hard enough to knock out a mortal, Iris tosses me against what I hope are shadows. No such luck, those shadows have arms and I notice circular scars mar those arms.

"Liv. I have no quarrel with you. Go on, get out of here," Iris says this like Liv is just going to leave me here.

Liv looks over at me and it strikes me how fragile she seems all of a sudden. She was mortal at one point. And has no formal training, unlike yours truly—and I'm getting my homeostasis adjusted. "Go," I say.

Forgive me, Jacelynd. I never meant for this to happen. I love you.

Liv seems to consider not leaving, but as more Death Dealers emerge from the darkness, she turns to run back to the castle.

"Oh, we're going to have fun with you," Iris whispers in my ear, then turns to shout to the others. "Let's go!"

I've pondered once already the sheer inconvenience of waking up in strange places.
In retrospect, I might take those strange places over this one, because at least in those places some prayer of my safety still existed. Here, not so much.

My head is absolutely killing me. I can only dry heave because there isn't enough blood in my system to throw up and judging by the wet condition of my shirt, I've already evicted all of the whiskey.

It takes me a second to realize I am standing. Sort of. My back is cold and when I move I hear the distinct clink of metal on metal. When I try to bring my hands from behind my back, I find that whoever has restrained me knows exactly what they're doing. And now it dawns on me why the steel-lined rooms blocked my Tithe with Jacelynd. Duh. If it blocks our powers in general, why wouldn't it hinder, at the very least, a mental connection?

Shit. This may mean that I'm in a steel-lined room now.
Jacelynd? Trinity?

I hear nothing but my own heartbeat.

Trinity, I'm in serious straits here. If you're ignoring me because you're mad, you can hate me later! Please answer me!

Oh. My. God. I'm really alone. I'd started to kind of get used to sharing that space and now to suddenly have deafening silence, well …
oh my God.
I would linger on that thought a little longer, but more dry heaves wrack my body.

Bright, unbelievably hot lights flicker to life around me. I can barely see at first, but after a few minutes my sight adjusts and lo and behold Iris appears.

"You enjoying your stay so far? You've spent most of it in a drunken stupor. Classy, Jessica, really." Iris' skin looks like its simmering and bubbling, her scars swirling madly on her body, but logic tells me that it's the heat from the lamps I'm seeing.

"Why am I here, Iris?" I can't believe how bad this hangover is. I won't even bother guessing the time.

"Because you're predictable. I needed you away from the others and like a lamb to the slaughter, you came."

"That hardly answers the question. I was told that you and I were close. Jacelynd still doesn't want to believe that you're responsible for all of this." Well, that isn't really true. Not anymore. But, come on. Give me a break here.

"No? Then how could I have planned on him sacrificing his immortal soul ten years ago? I'm frankly shocked that he let so many years pass by."

There's no way she could know this. Unless of course she is the all-encompassing evil heinous bitch I think she it. Then she might know.

"And then there is always the second soul involved in all of this," she says elatedly.

"What do you—where is my son?" And like they say, those instincts kick into hyper-drive.

Iris laughs and I swear that if there were ever a time I could break through vampire-repellent steel, it would be now. "You told me a few days before the concert that you were pregnant. Do you know how long I've waited for this? The blood of two royal blood immortals is worth so much more than what Trinity offered the Guardians. Hmm, his disappointment will be so lovely to watch. Well, there will be time enough for that."

She turns and I can't see what she's grabbing a hold of. It's not until the blade slashes across my chest that I realize it's a small hand blade. The laceration cuts across my collarbone.

"No one to hear you scream. No one to heal your wounds. How does it feel? To be alone? Are you scared?" She saunters past me too slowly, then lashes out again and drags the knife three times across my left thigh. I was holding out pretty well, but this elicits a cry.

I'm shivering again, because even with the heat lamps it's been over two days—assuming I've been here more than a few hours—since I've had Trinity's blood and it feels like thirty below zero. In fact, I haven't had any blood at all since the last time Iris and I crossed paths.

"Why, Iris?" I ask tiredly. My voice is exhausted from throwing up and from all the loud, stupid singing I did in the pub. I've never regretted a decision more than to leave that castle. God, I feel for Jacelynd. I've done it again, for a third time now he will wake and find me not there.
Please know that I didn't do this on purpose.

"Do I really need to go into all the reasons?"

I'm beginning to understand why some cultures drown their firstborn children. "Well, since … "

She breaks the skin at the top of my left shoulder and slowly starts to drag the blade downward.

"Since I have no … memory of the past … I thought you might want to tell me. I can't be … sorry for what I don't remember." I suck air through my teeth, somewhat taken aback by how bad this shit hurts. You would think deeper wounds would feel worse.

I am expecting to hear the typical stuff that any sibling might hold against another. Maybe she had a thing for Tristan, or even Jacelynd. Maybe I stole something out of her room when we were children and it's driven her mad ever since. Who the hell knows?

"Do you know who was supposed to marry Lord Tristan?" she asks.

I shouldn't. I
really
shouldn't, but my mouth parted ways with common sense sometime after the third round of Murphy's drinking song. So I smile and say, "Your momma?"

Shit. She's my mother, too.
It was so much funnier without that knowledge.

An incredibly fast swing takes the blade across my face, cutting from the middle of my forehead down across one eye. I taste my own blood as it passes over my lips.

"I was!" She is leaning into my face, her rancid breath filling my nose. "Not so beautiful now, are you?"

I guess now isn't the time to tell her that I couldn't care less how I look. I might own two tubes of lipstick. Maybe some mascara. You don't take much time to consider how you'll look to someone you intend to kill. And for the last decade my social circle has consisted almost exclusively of just such individuals.

"So, you're in love with Trinity? Big shock there," I hiss. "Well, that rocks because you can have him!"

I hear a clatter and assume that she's dropped the knife. She looks at me, tears streaming down her face. And come to think of it, why do they always stream? I guess saying they dribbled wouldn't be as poetic?

She sways on her feet, struggling to cry effectively. Not much is left of her nose, which makes breathing and containing snot an arduous endeavor. I am hoping this is where she breaks down and we hug.

Alas, the white-hot pain in my abdomen tells me there'll be no
Full House
moments for us. Once I finish screaming bloody hell—you probably expected me to say bloody murder, but
hello?
we're vampires—I look down to see her pull a still-glowing hot poker out of my stomach.

"You think I'm going to finish things now, don't you? Kill you and end your pain?" She is flipping the effing poker around in her hand like she did the gun earlier.

Once again, I really shouldn't. But I hurt like hell and this "let's make Jessi pay" business is seriously starting to cramp my style. "No, Dr. Evil, not since you're telling me that."

Her hand snatches my chin and she leans in until we are mere inches apart. "Oh, I will kill you. I'm just going to take my time."

I bare my fangs and hiss because it's all I can do at the moment. There just aren't words for this kind of pain.

"I am no longer just a vampire, Jessica. When the flames were surrounding me, I harnessed them and released my true potential."

She doesn't know that it was because she died. She has no idea what really happened.

"If only Trinity had given me the chance, we could have ruled this world together. What a shame. He chose the wrong sister." Iris touches the tip of one of my fangs, pricking her finger. She sucks the blood away and smiles before she drives that poker somewhere else in my midsection. I have no idea where because if I didn't know better, I would swear the pain was radiating from the inside out. And for once, I am grateful to pass out.

"You
know, had you shared with me that my mother was the embodiment of all evil, I might have told you she was at Callmadus."

I can see fairly well out of one of my eyes. The other is swollen shut. "Lucan?" Wow, I sound awful. I bet I look even worse.

"Last time I checked."

I want to laugh in relief but that takes a couple organs that aren't in such hot shape right now. "Are you hurt?"

"Physically? No. Emotionally? Scarred for life."

God, I love this kid. "I'm so sorry. I wan … " I pause because the pain has come rushing back to me and it's absolutely nothing like a Celine Dion song.

"Hey! Hey! Damn it, don't die on me!" He sounds panicked, poor little guy.

"Don't … use … that—insert a few gurgling coughs and a couple death rattles — … kind of language."

Did I really just say that?

Lucan is tied to a chair across from me. His hair is messy, his clothes are wrinkled. I marvel for a moment that a kid as snarky as mine would wear a Snoopy shirt before I realize he's in his pajamas.

"I always hated Snoopy," I say weakly. Kind of a dumb thing to say but
"I've always loved you, even though I didn't technically know you existed until just recently. But don't worry because we have time to make up for that later,"
just won't make it off my tongue.

"Eureka! My other pants do hold the power to save the world. If only I had remembered to put them on before being kidnapped." He looks down and I can tell he's a little embarrassed. "Besides, even Snoopy could kick your butt right now, so shut up about my jams."

"Touché."

"So every time Trinity said I reminded him of my mother, was he talking about Iris or you?"

"Me. I think. You don't … strike me … as evil."

"That's debatable. Did you want kids?"

I choke up a little and try to swallow the tears. "I read a letter I wrote before my memories were altered. You were little … asleep on my chest and I was … so happy. We'd waited on you for … a very long time." I cough more and start to feel like I'm going to black out again.

"You mean my dad?"

"Jacelynd," his name is little more than a whisper on my lips and I want to tell Lucan that his father will be coming for him—for both of us, but he won't be.

"Do you think Trinity knows my dad?"

He doesn't know that Trinity and Iris both are responsible for this. How do you tell a child that the person he adores is the reason he wasn't raised by his real parents? I decide that's a question better answered later. If we have a later.

Two immortal souls.

"Lucan, do you have … a tattoo or … mark of some kind on you?"

"Yeah,
carpe diem
is written in Old English on my forearm. I'm nine. No, I don't have any tattoos."

See, fruit of my loins.
"Birthmark?" If they had used the right color ink, Lucan would never know.

"I have a small birthmark on my wrist. It's nothing apocalyptic though. In case you're looking for something special."

It means your soul will be turned over to another realm upon death or whatever agreement Iris has made with the guardians.
"Nope. Just wondered. Your father has a similar, uh, birthmark."

All right, babe, it's just you. So let's pull your shit together and get Lucan out of here. No one else is going to talk you through this.
Am I hyperventilating? Wow. Didn't see a panic attack coming.

"Don't worry. Trinity will come. I know he will," Lucan says confidently.

"Do you recognize anything about this place? Any idea where we are?"

"No. I've never been here before. I think she gave me something because I don't remember how I got here."

My chest feels like it's being pried open by the jaws of life and hosed down with gasoline. I cough and fight for breath for a few seconds before I can get out, "We're in Ireland."

"And your beloved Trinity is still in the states." Iris' voice makes my wounds hurt worse. She is standing next to a framed picture on the wall across from Lucan and me. At the flip of a switch it changes from the static scene to a news broadcast. Unfortunately, I know what's coming, but Lucan doesn't have a clue.

The blandly attractive TV reporter says, "We're here in Alexandria Virginia, with the founder of Mythos Pharmaceuticals, Dr. Tristan Thorn. Tell us, Dr. Thorn, how were you able to formulate a vaccine so quickly? And do you anticipate having enough for everyone in the high-risk areas?"

Tristan replies in his best TV voice, "We've had fears that a virus of this scale would hit densely populated areas for the last few years due to the overuse of antibiotics. Not only have we produced enough for high-risk areas, we are providing the vaccine, Ambrosia, free of charge. You can go to any local public health center to receive aid. Emergency stations are being set up by the CDC in all metropolitan areas. Check your churches and community centers. Some are even in school auditoriums and gymnasiums."

"Dr. Thorn, the world owes you and Mythos incredible thanks for all of your efforts. We're going live to …" Iris mutes the television.

I hear sniffling and look over to see Lucan crying and trying his best to hide it. And I'll be screwed sideways if this doesn't piss me off more than anything Iris has done yet.