Sire (31 page)

To kill her.

The girl beneath him wasn't Caitlin. It wasn't a person at all. The thing lying on the ground beneath him was an object, a victim, and nothing more. And he wasn't Michael. He was a hunter. A predator. A killer.

The beast inside him, caged so long and so carefully, was free.

Michael tore open her throat with his fangs. Not simple puncture wounds, but a terrible, ragged hole. Blood poured out. He drank. The beast grew stronger.

His claws bit into her skin. More blood flowed from the wounds and ran onto the floor. The scent was maddening.

Michael could taste the fear in her blood. The panic. The pain. The monster inside of him roared.

Then the blood began to slow. The beast was still hungry, and Michael bit again, opening new wounds, but there was no more to drink. He felt the fear leave her, and the pain, too.

"Michael. Please," she whispered, and then she was gone. Just an empty, broken shell.

The beast laughed, then fell silent.

Michael was dimly aware this his own injuries were healing, and that strength had suddenly flooded his body. Caitlin's strength. Caitlin's life.

Her friends were there. Alexis and Garret. The girl looked at Michael with pure, deserved hatred. The boy just looked ill. And Evan. He was standing by the throne, still under Angelica's thrall. A crowd of vampires, too, had been brought in to see Michael murder his lover. Including Bethany. A pit grew in his stomach when he saw her. Another girl he had failed to save.

Michael looked down at Caitlin. She was so white. So ... broken. Some people say that death is like falling asleep, that when you look at the dead, you almost expect them to wake up. Caitlin didn't look like she was asleep. She looked like she had been mauled by a wild animal.

Which was true.

"No. No, no, no," Michael said. He cradled her head, lifting it off the ground. She didn't move, didn't flutter an eyelid.

Michael bit into his wrist and held it to her mouth. "Please," he said. "Drink."

A cold hand fell on his shoulder. "It's over, Michael," Angelica said.

Michael stared at Caitlin, hopeless, defeated. He set her head back down on the cold marble, now stained red.

Slowly, Michael stood to his feet. His eyes never left Caitlin's still form. Alexis was shouting curses at him. He deserved them all.

"I'm sorry," Angelica whispered. "But this had to be done."

Bloody tears ran from Michael's eyes.

And then talons sprouted from his fingers.

He turned and slashed. Angelica looked at him with blank eyes. Then a crimson line formed across her throat, and blood poured out onto the floor.

He had caught her completely by surprise. She hadn't had the chance to defend herself. And now she was hurt. Vulnerable.

Michael roared and dove at her. They crashed into one of the pillars, cracking it from top to bottom. He landed on top of his Sire, and pinned her to the ground.

His fangs found her throat and tore into her flesh, savaging her just as viciously as they had Caitlin. But this time, Michael was in control. This time, it was intentional.

"Michael, please," Angelica whispered.

Michael reared back, bared his fangs, and struck again.

Power surged into him. Such raw power, the power of a vampire five hundred years old, the power of a vampire that could walk in the sun.

Angelica was still. Michael stood to his feet and faced the room, gore dripping from his face.

Julian, Angelica's chief enforcer, rushed forward. "Kill him!" he shouted. "Kill them all!"

***

It was like his brain had been handcuffed, and suddenly set free. He hadn't been in a fog, not exactly. Evan had known exactly what he was doing the entire time, and hated every second of it. But no matter how loud he screamed on the inside, he was forced to go along with whatever Angelica had told him to do.

But not any more.

She had been inside his head for days, a constant presence every waking second, looming above him, overwhelming him, grinding him down. But suddenly she was gone, and Evan was free.

All hell was breaking lose.

Michael had attacked Angelica. Maybe killed her, Evan didn't know. But her influence was gone, and a whole lot of her blood was on the floor. Michael stood over her body, his face covered in blood.

Caitlin was on the floor beside them. God, Evan couldn't bear to look at her. Couldn't bear to know that he had helped
cause
that. She looked ...

She looked dead.

And then Julian yelled to the other vampires, and they were under attack.

They rushed Michael, five of them in the first wave, moving so fast Evan could barely see.

But Michael was even faster. God, Evan had never seen anything move that fast. It was like he was teleporting or something. He'd be in one place, and then instantly in another.

And wherever he appeared, a vampire died.

The injuries he was inflicting ... there's no way to really describe them. A single swipe of his claws would tear off a vampire's head, or rip out a heart, or rend his opponent from shoulder to hip. These weren't flesh wounds. Evan could see straight through the vampires' bodies. Blood and ash flew.

Michael wasn't playing games, and he wasn't taking prisoners. He killed everything that got within a dozen feet of him.

Evan heard a shout, and jerked his head around. Alexis had stomped on the ankle of the werewolf that had been holding her, and then turned around and kicked him in the junk. Her crossbow had been lying on the ground, and she was already bringing it up to her shoulder. The werewolf guarding Garret reached for his knife, but he was too slow. Alexis drilled him right in the heart.

Garret looked down at the werewolf's body, shocked.

"What are you waiting for?" Alexis shouted. "Start firing!"

More vampires surged forward, and Michael was still taking them apart like a Tasmanian devil. But there were so many of them. It was only a matter of time before he was overwhelmed.

Alexis and Garret shot off arrows. Garret struck one vampire in the shoulder. Alexis' bolt just missed. Neither shot really did any good.

And it took so long to reload. The crossbow was better than nothing, but it wasn't enough. They needed help.

They needed magic.

Evan yanked the arrow out of Garret's werewolf, and used the blood on it to trace a fire sigil on the ground. He pictured what he wanted the flame to do, where he wanted the wall of fire to appear, then he poured his energy into the spell.

The room turned white.

Evan had never felt so much power move through him before. Not even when he drew the sigil in the earth, in the forest. That spell had been so powerful because the sigil was drawn on something so permanent. At least, that's what Evan thought. But this spell had been drawn in blood, and like all the legends say, there's
life
in the blood.

The flames were white hot and standing in a curtain between the vampires and Michael, Alexis, Garret, and Evan. Every eye on this side of the fire turned to look at him.

"I don't know how long I can hold this," Evan shouted. "So somebody come up with a good plan real quick."

Michael knelt by Caitlin again, and cradled her in his lap. Then he bit his wrist, and tried to get her to drink his blood.

Evan hoped it would work. God, he hoped it would work. He was just as responsible for her as Michael was.

But Caitlin didn't seem to be moving.

The flames died down a bit. They were still ten feet high, but they didn't reach quite to the ceiling. And that gave the vampires just enough room. One of them leapt over the flames and landed next to Angelica.

Alexis shot him in the heart, and he fell to the ground.

But more vampires were leaping over the flames.

***

The vampires were swarming them, but Michael didn't care. Evan could keep most of them at bay, and Alexis and Garret were picking off the ones that got through with crossbows. They wouldn't last forever, but they would last long enough for him to help Caitlin.

Hopefully.

Michael bit his wrist and pressed it to Caitlin's mouth. He felt the blood trickle out of him and into her, but she didn't respond. Didn't move. Fury and grief and terror shook him. Blood was falling from his eyes in huge drops. His fangs were showing again. He wanted to kill everything in the room, everything in the world. Everything that had hurt her.

And then she coughed.

It was the most beautiful noise in the world. She coughed and sputtered and choked on Michael's blood, and it was wonderful. His heart broke into a hundred pieces when he heard her cough.

She held onto his wrist and pulled the blood out, drinking hungrily. Good. Take as much as you need. Take everything. Just get better.

Michael could feel the connection forming between them. Her blood moved through his veins, carrying her thoughts, her emotions with it, just as his blood was moving through her. His head swam with pictures from her mind. Her family back home. Her friends in St. Troy. Michael himself.

And then his vision grew dark. Michael tried to pull away, but Caitlin held him fast. And he was weak. So weak. He shouldn't be this weak. Less than a minute ago he had been ripping vampires ten times his age into pieces. Now, this girl was stronger than him.

Her heart raced,
bangbangbangbangbang
inside her chest ...

And then it stopped beating altogether.

She fell limp against the floor.

Michael's vision returned. He stared at Caitlin, confused and afraid.

And then he realized what had happened.

"God dammit Michael, help us!" Alexis was screaming at him. He shook his head to clear it, then turned, fangs and talons bared.

Evan's fire spell was dying, and the horde of vampires was advancing. Alexis and Garret couldn't shoot fast enough to hold them off, and Evan looked spent.

Michael rushed them. Talons ripped and rent. Everything in front of him died.

Ash choked the air and blood stained the floor. But the vampires kept coming. Michael had betrayed his Sire and his Regent, and he would be killed for his crimes.

Bethany lunged at him, a look of pure, hateful joy on her face. Michael caught her by the throat and held her aloft. He drew back his clawed hand to strike.

"Don't!" Garret yelled. Startled, Michael looked back at him, Bethany still clutched in one hand.

She raked him with her claws. The wounds healed almost as soon as they opened, but Michael was distracted enough for her to get free.

"Thanks, lover," she said to Garret, then darted away.

The vampires pushed them toward the front of the room, away from the throne. More vampires, and werewolves, too, were pouring in through the double doors. They were surrounded. Trapped.

Michael grabbed a handful of arrows from Alexis' bag and started hurling them through the air. He was using his bare hands, but they flew harder and faster then she had been able to shoot them with a crossbow. Some of the younger vampires turned to ash as the arrows tore them apart. The older ones fell to the ground, incapacitated. Alexis and Garret shot over Michael's shoulder. They were still cutting the enemy down, but there were so many of them.

Michael smelled blood close by. He looked down and saw that Evan had cut his hand open, and was drawing another sigil on the floor. Michael hoped he had enough strength left to fuel the spell.

Golden light shimmered over the blood mark, and a ball of flame appeared in Evan's right hand. He reached out, and a column of flame six feet wide tore through the doors, and everyone that had been coming through them. Doors and vampires and werewolves were incinerated. Marble cracked and smoked.

Evan grabbed Alexis and Garret by the shoulders and led them toward the exit. Good. Michael turned back toward the vampires. A growl built deep inside his chest. He prepared to attack.

"Michael!" Evan shouted. Michael ignored him.

"Leave him!" Alexis cried out. She tried to pull Evan through the door.

He shrugged away from her and slammed both of his hands down on the sigil. A swirling ball of fire appeared around him, red and gold and white. It rose into the air, then spread out in an arc, over everyone's heads, and slammed into two of the marble columns. The columns shattered from the impact and crumbled to the ground.

Fire spread out in a wall between Michael and the vampires. The ceiling groaned and buckled. Plaster started to fall around him.

Michael felt a tug on his arm. Garret. Evan was leaning against him, barely able to stand.

"Come on man, we have to get out of here before the whole building collapses," Garret said.

Part of the ceiling buckled and fell. The debris, coupled with the fire, cut Michael off from Caitlin completely.

"Come on!" Garret yelled.

Michael followed him, numb.

***

They stood on the lawn, watching the mansion burn. The section containing the throne room had collapsed entirely, and the rest was already ablaze. Evan's spell had done its job.

"I have to get back in there," Michael said. His voice was hollow. "I have to get Caitlin."

"Oh, now you're worried about her," Alexis said, venom in her voice.

Michael started to growl, but fought to keep himself in check.

"Let her go, man," Garret said.

Evan put a hand on Michael's shoulder. "I'm sorry. But there's nothing we can do. She's gone."

Michael started toward the mansion. He couldn't see a way in, didn't know how he was going to dig through the rubble, but he had to find her.

Evan grabbed his arm. "She's gone, Michael. She's dead. There's no use getting yourself killed, too."

"I wouldn't complain," Alexis said.

Michael pulled away from him. "You don't understand. She's not dead."

He stared hard at the mansion. He had to get her body out before the vampires found her. Before she burned.

"She's becoming a vampire," Michael said.

To Be Continued

Errata

"You need an editor."

I've done a lot of reading about this whole writing thing. A
lot
of reading. From Stephen King's
On Writing
and Karen Wiesner's
First Draft in 30 Days
to Larry Brooks'
Storyfix.com
and Chuck Wendig's
TerribleMinds.com
, I've inhaled as much knowledge as I can on the art, science, and business of books.