The Bonded (15 page)

“Adriel, we are allowed time off, just as humans have vacations, and one of my duties includes visiting other tribes to make certain their training is up to par. I use those trips and take extra weeks to travel throughout the world. A little more than twenty years ago, I felt a compulsion to move, to travel from this place to the next. He
knows
because that list you gave was my exact list as well. Every place you visited, I was there… in perfect order.” She let that one sink in.

“How is that possible? Were you following me?”

“No! I don’t know how to explain it. I had no idea you were in any of those places. I had lost track of you the very evening I found you. You said it yourself; something was ‘pulling’ you from place to place; it was the same for me. I see now that we were being drawn together. He figured it out. He must have recognized the sword was special.”

“What do you mean the sword was special?”

“For me to answer that, I must go back to where we left off. She was dying; I could smell death upon her as the pain of childbirth must have been more than she could bear. She spoke with an accent that was ancient and lost, yet I understood every word. Softly, she asked me to come closer so that she could ‘conserve what little strength I have left for Vinculum.’ She asked me to take her son, you, and find a place of safety. You were her only child and must live, as the
others
have fallen in despair and need you.”

“Who are the others?”

“I don’t know and that is all she spoke of them. She asked if I would grant her that dying wish. Without thought, my heart leapt from my chest and I consented. She then said in a serious tone, ‘This is no mere obligation, it is an ancient oath that costs much, but rewards more.’ I knew my hour was nearly over and the scientist would be there very soon, so I agreed with haste. She led my eyes to her IVs with a silent plead for assistance and I removed them carefully. I could immediately feel the pressure shift as if a cold front was inside the room and she walked to the corner with you in one hand, grabbing the sword with the other. She stared with teary eyes and whispered, ‘Vinculum.’ All those years I thought it was the sword’s name.” She stops suddenly and sinks into herself.

Bryn breaks the stillness. “I had thought that as well, Percy. It appears that we both missed a very important piece of this puzzle for many years.” He shrugged back into his chair, pondering some alluding mystery. I kept my mouth shut so the story would unravel at a quicker pace.

Finally, after nearly a minute of quiet, Percy speaks. “She was already beginning to heal, but we both knew that her life was near its end. She sat down on the floor, crossing her legs, and gently placed you on her right side. She said to me as a mother speaks to a daughter, ‘Please, sit on my left and do not be afraid. I will not live through this, so I must ask more of you. His name is Adriel and his power will be immense
and
unknown, as we have not seen one like him since the beginning. He must have access to my sword, which will soon be his by rightful inheritance. Do you have something I may write on?’ I scanned the sanitized room and found a blank paper and she penned the word ‘Vinculum,’ folded the paper in half, and asked that you receive it when you were ready. I hesitantly accepted the note when she started chanting in a language that was hauntingly seductive with fluid incantations that resonated like melodies.

“The air smelled clean, with no active or competing scents, as if oxidized by a strike of lightning, when she asked me to grab the hilt of the sword. She stopped abruptly and said, ‘It is time. I can sense your sorrow, and it is for that reason I know it is no mistake that you were chosen for this task. Please do not shed tears for me, as I have lived a full life for two millennia… and tolerated things in the last two decades that no one should experience. I am ready for this life to end; it would be a worse punishment to live with these recent memories.’ She had to stop and regain her composure as a quivering lip expressed her deep well of feelings. ‘When he is ready, find him. I… I cannot last much longer, remember this ritual, you will be his and he yours.’

With wet eyes she gently reached for you and placed your hand on the tip of the sword. In that beautiful moment, I felt the air move. Well, not the air, but a current in the air pulled into her. Somehow she absorbed it, manipulated it, and nurtured the current until it crackled with blue electric lines arcing around us. She intangibly reached into you, extrapolating your personal storage of energy and it buzzed and shot out in crooked bolts eaten by the sword. She poured her life essence in the form of electricity into it as well and it glowed with a blue haze. The sword slowly heated until my fingers blistered in response. I desperately wanted to let go, but it would not allow me, as my hands were welded to the hilt. You began to cry with pain as we both felt our insides being pulled, then filled, pulled, then filled as pulsating energy became our blood. The entire room hissed and thundered as lights faded on and off with synchronized effort. Then it stopped. Total and complete silence as your mother collapsed, and in the midst of breathing her final breath, she said, ‘When the time comes, the others will fear both of you, but they will need an heir.’”

Her last words are frightening, but my emotions are so raw with sensitivity that I dip my head to hide the embarrassment. Bryn lightly touches my hair and says to me, “Adriel, you have every right to mourn her death. Even though you did not know her, the void of who she was has been filled and emptied.”

I strain my neck upward and meet Percy’s eyes in shared sorrow. “Years ago when I left home and went to New Orleans, I used to spend the evenings walking through the Garden District and unofficially touring old southern mansions. I loved the architecture and aged beauty of a city that clung to its past. One evening, I recall the half moon was brighter than it should have been and street lights dampened in competition. You’ve been in the cities at night; most people think they are noisy and buzzing with activity, but in reality they are still only pierced by occasional sirens or gun fire.

“It was that type of evening that I experienced my first real taste of unrestrained violence and its result. Two young guys, older than me then and much larger, cornered me on a side street, demanding my wallet and shoes. Looking back, I was stupid not to comply, but I was stubborn and young so I refused. They threatened me and pulled a knife. I remember thinking they wouldn’t use it because that would never actually happen in real life. I was surprised when he slashed at me. I reactively raised my left hand to shield my face and as I pulled it away, felt the blood pumping out where the knuckle of my index finger once was. It was a clean slice that left my finger dangling with only several threads of blood vessels and skin that refused to let go. Months later, I still felt the top section of my finger throb with pain, even though the bone was still disconnected. That’s how I feel about her. All these years I knew I was there was a part of me that was detached. I knew because it hurt. Now, after a restless search, I find you
and
my mother, only to have her cut off from me permanently.” An appreciative silence lingers for a while.

Percy waits for me, then says, “We don’t have parents or family who would sacrifice so much. In many ways I envy you. Be thankful for the memories, for the richness that they give.” She breaks for transition. “Adriel, I recall you saying that you were sixteen when you left home?”

“Yeah, so what?”

Her eyes shut searching for archived memories and I see her nostrils flare, inhaling to confirm the data. “I was there that night. It was bloody, as I found two fresh carcasses with their heads crushed into the cement and brain matter splashed all over the curb. Yet that seductive scent had no effect on me due to a trail of blood that overwhelmed my senses. It was gravity, pulling and stretching me until I caught myself with heavy breath snapping out of a trance. It was the same blood I smelled on you a month ago and this evening. I noticed four of their friends running down the street, looking for the person who killed their buddies. They must have witnessed the struggle from afar and were going to teach you a lesson, one that would have ended your life. I observed this from the roof adjacent to the assault when an incredibly strong feeling came over me. It was an undeniable urge: primal and vicious. I was under its spell and lusted for their blood. I dropped from the roof and butchered all four men with utter brutality, as if they had done something to deserve such a gruesome death. I recall wondering why I was so careless, why I would have killed four when I could have simply drank from one.”

Bryn sits back and scratches his chin thoughtfully. “I think this bond is more powerful than we imagined. Adriel, may I see your left hand?” Without question I place my hand in his. “Did you have your finger surgically reattached?”

“No, I never went back. Hell, I didn’t even go to the emergency room. I was scared that my blood and fingerprints would be all over the murder scene and that the police would lock me away for a very long time. In fact, well, this didn’t seem strange at the time, but now…”

“Go on,” he eagerly commands.

“I stopped at the local 24-hour pharmacy and picked up some gauze, peroxide, and what not. I remember the cashier being both concerned and pissed that the floor was slick with blood. I crawled into bed that night with a burning fever and didn’t wake up for three days, except for the occasional delusion here and there. When I awoke, my finger was healing, still nasty, but the skin was connected. I bought a splint and it took about a year for the bone to actually reattach. I guessed that it was possible because other animals heal and fingers are saved often. Thankfully, it was my left hand.” I smile at the joke.

“This will take more thought, but you are
definitely
not
wholly
one of us.”

“What?” I demand.

“Your finger reattached without surgery, without assistance. It regenerated while you were only sixteen years of age.”

Percy lets out a gasp. “How is that possible? He experienced the Resurrectio only a month ago?”

Bryn returns the volley. “I hesitate to speculate this early, but I think that young Adriel has never experienced the Resurrectio and never will.”

“Spit it out, Bryn,” I say.

“Vampire children are human in nearly every way; they do not heal as quickly or as dramatically as they do after the Resurrectio or run hot, as they now say. Yet, you were regenerating digits at sixteen, and you successfully defended yourself against two larger, older opponents, who had weapons, with lethal force. Percy says that you were somewhat immune to the elements the night you were reacquainted and now you are more than that. It seems with every perceived life-threatening situation your body reacts by transforming you more into what you were born to be. You were raised in an environment that was sanitized and controlled. You had no need of your inherent capabilities. In other words, they lay dormant from lack of need.”

Percy steps on my question with one of her own. “Are you seriously hypothesizing that he was born as what he is without need of the Resurrectio?”

“Yes, and that he has not experienced the total transformation. The process is not complete!”

Rarely am I a loss for words, but on this particular occasion I sit with mouth agape. I regain whatever thread of self-respect is left and say, “I’m really not interested in redoing puberty.” A spark of laughter ignites in Bryn and even Percy joins for a moment as stress drains to tolerant levels. The thumping vibration of the music is getting stronger as the DJ sways back and forth in time and I am lost in the picture.

“Adriel,” Percy says, “we do not have much time. Do you have your questions answered?”

I crawl through the haze of daydreaming back to the conversation. “Thanks, Percy. How did Cassius end up with the sword?”

“I knew the scientist’s arrival was imminent, so I was able to mourn her loss for mere seconds. I picked you up with care as you were sleeping. The sword was still swirling with a lightning-blue current in the pattern embedded on the blade. Your mother mentioned the sword’s role in your future, so even with one hand carrying you, I reached for it, only to be shocked. I threw the sword with shards of electricity splintering off and disappearing in the air. I made a quick decision to leave it. In hindsight, I should have wrapped it in a cloth, but I still don’t think I could have escaped with both hands occupied.

“I vanished, unscathed and unknown, into the night. At 4:00 a.m., Quilici and I met at a rendezvous point near downtown Atlanta in the Five Points district. It was there, in a local restaurant, that I gave you to him and that was all I knew until a month ago.” Percy rested and realized that she had inched her way to the edge of the chair, leaning forward with excitement. She indiscreetly wiped the dampness from her hands on her leather pants and straightened her posture, ready to receive questions.

“So, that’s it. My life began in a science lab and a restaurant… That explains a lot.” I say it sardonically. “You mentioned earlier that both of you were under the impression that the sword was the Vinculum. Can you explain that part to me?”

She says, “When your mother looked at the sword and said the word, I assumed it was a name. The sword has otherworldly qualities and absorbed both of your energies. I thought perhaps it was some bond to your people, to the ‘others,’ or to your mother. Please remember that up until a month ago, I had no idea that you survived or where you were. Yet, since our re-acquaintance I have felt the same pull, the aches, and the desires you have. It increases with proximity and compounds with each experience. I intellectually understood what she said concerning us belonging to each other, but I did not really understand it until
we
met again.”

“What are you saying, Percy?”

Bryn interjects. “The sword is not The Bonded, Adriel.” His eyes dart back and forth to both of us. “You are!”

I don’t know why I am thrown off. In my heart I knew it to be true, but my breath escapes me and I find myself gasping for air. The demon stirs, gnawing instead of pounding his way to the surface, and I stall half a minute to regain a little composure. I distantly respond, “We are bonded? I mean, I knew something between us was happening. I knew it was more than puppy love, but an actual bond?” I emotionally retreat and they allow me the space and time to return. “Okay, we have a tether. It is growing and none of us knows what will result from it?”