The Frenzy Series (Book 2): Frantic (23 page)

“I’m sure he’d be interested in that piece of information.”

“He’ll never hear it from you,” he growled.

A high-pitched squeal came from across the river. Mercedes stood there, a guy about her age standing next to her. His skin was gray, and I remembered seeing him in the city with her. Mother clapped her hands excitedly and waded into the icy water. Her skirts billowed and then plastered to her thighs.

“Mother, don’t! The current’s too swift.”

The dark liquid swirled around her knees, thighs, hips. It clung to her skirts and relentlessly shoved against her body. We all saw the moment she lost her footing. Mercedes raised her hand out toward her and started to walk down the river bank on the forest side, as mother fought the white-capped water churning around her.

“Let me go!” I pleaded.

“You’ll save her?”

“Yes!” And just like that, Julian released his grip on my pinned back hair. I ran down the side of the bank, pushing off rocks until I was right across from her. As she went under, I jumped in. Tage said that temperature didn’t affect a night-walker, but Tage was wrong. Or was it Roman? The water cut into my skin like a thousand knife-points, a thousand splinters of wood fired into my flesh at once.

I gasped, grasping at the water, “Mother?”

Her head popped up and she gulped in another breath before the water pulled her under again. It was just enough to tell me where she was and would be. I found her upper arm and jerked hard. Her shoulder dislocated with a pop that reverberated through my hand, but I planted my feet and pulled hard toward the forest side. I helped her up onto a rock. Her dress and jacket wouldn’t keep her warm now. Mercedes descended toward us slowly.

Teeth chattering, I watched her jerky movements. “You look like death, Mercedes,” I taunted.

She opened her mouth with a scowl and pointed at her side. “Oh! How’s the wound? Healing up nicely? Oh! I forgot. You don’t heal. You rot!”

Mercedes made a guttural sound that sounded like a snarl.

“You wanted Mother? Well here she is – take care of her. And stay away from the colonists. If I see you on a hunt again, in the forest or in the city, it won’t be a flesh wound you have to worry about. I’ll tear you apart, limb from limb.”

She opened her mouth and reached for Mother, who was scuttling up the bank toward her favorite daughter.

Good riddance.

Julian helped pull me up the muddy bank, my forearm locked with his. His eyes raked over me and I became aware that even though I was freezing to death, my wet dress was plastered to my body, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“Why...?” he asked.

“W-w-why w-w-what?”

“You’re cold.”

“I think I have hypothermia.”

“Your lips are blue.”

Mother screamed as Mercedes pulled her dislocated arm. “AAAAAH! I want to go back!” she shrieked, using her feet to kick the ground and push herself away from Mercedes and her boyfriend. Mercedes just smiled at her with a mouth full of receding gums, exposing more of the roots of her teeth. She’d lost more hair in the short time since I last saw her, too. She tugged on Mother again, but Mother was strong. She pulled Mercedes hard and my sister stumbled.

Enraged, Mercedes bared her teeth and made an awful howling noise. I covered my ears. She sounded like she was right beside me. Looking up, I saw her boyfriend approach the pair; patchy scalp with skin peeling away from the top. He had little hair left now, and hollow cheeks and eyes. The only thing he did look was sharp, intelligent. He approached Mother, who began to sob. “I want to go back. Come and get me, Porschia, please. I’m so sorry, Porschia, please.”

My fingers bent toward her, but I didn’t move my feet. The Elders would kill her rather than let her return to the Colony. I couldn’t swallow the ball of emotion building in my throat. “Mother, run! Get up and run,” I screamed, a hot tear warming a path down my frozen cheek. “Get. Up! You’re faster than they are.”

But it was too late. Mercedes locked eyes with the Infected guy and he ticked his head up. As she bit Mother on the collarbone, her screams startled the crows and pigeons from their perches above us. A flurry of snow and dark feathers rained down over the swirling water. “Porschia!” Mother screamed, trying to get away. Other Infected appeared on the ridge above them; young and old, male and female. Tattered. Torn. Rotting and dangerous.

“You have to go with them now.” My voice cracked.

Julian locked his meaty palm around my upper arm. “Time to go check in.”

“Porschia! Porschia, save me! Only you can help me now! I’m sorry, Porschia!” She screamed for what seemed like hours, and I just wanted to sit on the ground that now held a few inches of snow. I wanted to rock back and forth, cover my ears, and squeeze my eyes shut. I wanted to stop crying. I wanted it to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop.

“STOP!”

But Julian wouldn’t stop. He pulled me forward. So instead of stopping, I put one foot in front of the other. That was the only way to meet adversity. Keep walking. Keep talking. Keep hearing.
I’ll take care of her, Porschia. But this isn’t over between us.
“Mercedes?” We were near the first row of houses when I heard her. It
was
her! It was her voice; the voice she had before she had no voice. It was Mercedes. It was my sister. It was her voice. In my head. Her voice was in my head.

And then more voices. So many voices, I couldn’t discern male from female. Tattered from torn. Dying from dead. Living from...Was I dying?

Was I dead?

No. My feet kept walking. Julian’s hand hurt. My arm hurt. My head hurt. It was splitting. I was cold. I was ice. I was nothing. I was. Nothing.

My teeth. They crashed together. Again. Again. Again.

I couldn’t feel my feet. They moved me. I couldn’t feel my toes. I couldn’t feel anything but numb.

Numb.

The pain was not numb.

My body was numb.

I was dying.

I was living.

This wasn’t living.

“Julian?”

“Hmm?” Even he was affected by the entire scene, it seemed.

“Are you g-g-going to k-kill Roman?”

“No.”

He seemed honest. “I’m going to usurp him. Someone else will kill him.”

“Who?”

He smiled. “You, poppet.”

My feet stopped. Were they frozen to the ground?

“W-why would I?”

“Because he was on watch the night your sister became Infected. He let it happen.” My breath came in quick bursts of steam and I couldn’t breathe. I hurt. My chest hurt. I couldn’t get air. Tage said I didn’t need air, but he lied. I needed it. I needed it badly. I clutched my chest, above my heart. My palm rubbed the skin. It hurt. I couldn’t reach the pain.

“Why would he do that?” My tears burned.

“He set this entire ball of shite in motion just so he could have you for himself.”

“Why not just turn me?”

“Politics, poppet. Politics are a bitch. That’s why I plan to eradicate them. We are at the top of the food chain, or we will be again soon. There is no need for silly games and manipulation.”

From a few yards away came Roman’s voice. “Julian? What happened? You need to go speak with the Elders.”

Hate. Anger. Wrath. Hate. Ice. Fire. Freeze. Burn.

My feet melted. They carried me toward him.

I ran after Roman right after he told the Elders it had been long enough. I felt the moment she was in trouble. A tightness formed in my chest and I couldn’t breathe. She was in danger, and was cold and scared. It wasn’t hunger; she was frightened, torn between anger and disgust. The old men looked to me. “Roman’s right. Porschia’s in trouble.”

The Elders motioned for us to go, but followed as quickly as their bowed legs would carry them across the Colony. Roman and I sped ahead, with Saul and Ford running after us. A flock of birds took flight from the forest and flew away together, passing overhead.

I could hear Miranda Grant’s screams, followed by Porschia’s erratic rambling. “I’m dead. I’m dying. I’m dead. This isn’t living. Mercedes is dead. Mother is dead.”

“Roman,” I said softly. He stopped and turned to look at me, holding his hand up. I stopped. “Help her.”

Julian was hauling Porschia back into the Colony, his hand tight around her arm. My fists flexed at the same time my fangs raked against my bottom lip. He was either helping her or looking for a fight, but I couldn’t tell which was true. Observing Porschia’s state was no help. She was freaking out.

Smiling, Julian whispered something to Porschia. I didn’t hear it because Saul nudged me at the same time and asked, “What the hell is going on?” He panted, his heartbeat was high.

“I don’t know, but it’s not good.”

Saul swallowed the truth, taking in Porschia. Her hair and dress were dripping with what I’d bet was ice-cold river water. Did Julian throw her in? Did her mother? “Roman,” I warned. He needed to help her. Her teeth chattered violently and her breaths were short and labored. Ice clung to strands of her hair. She was freezing. Literally.

“Where’s her coat?” Ford whispered, stepping up beside me.

“I don’t know.” She’d left Town Hall with it on.

“Mother. She gave it to Mother,” he swore, shaking his head.

“Of course she did.” If Mercedes wasn’t already killing that woman, I would have crossed the river and done it myself.

Roman’s eyes met mine. He looked to Porschia and back to me. I nodded and eased forward. “Stay here,” I warned Ford and Saul. “Something’s wrong.”

“Get my sister away from him,” Ford whispered, eyes clamped on Julian.

“Not a problem.” Roman and I stepped carefully toward them. Porschia was clutching her chest, rubbing it with the heel of her palm. We stopped in front of them. By that point the Elders had caught up and stood with Saul and Ford, taking in the scene.

“Did you do it?” Porschia asked, focused on Roman.

“What are you asking, Porschia?”

“Did you kill my sister? Did you let those sick bastards eat her, infect and kill her? Did you do it on purpose?”

Faster than I’ve ever seen him move, Roman struck Porschia in the neck and she went down, eyes rolled back in her head. His eyes dared us to defy him. “She’s delirious. The cold water is affecting her. Julian, run to my house. Start a fire and start warming water. Tell Dara to help.”

Roman scooped Porschia up like a flimsy doll and sped away with her. Julian was already gone. Saul caught up to me. “What the hell was that?”

I shook my head in disgust. “Roman’s manipulation.”

The Elders were flabbergasted. I turned to them. “Miranda’s across the river, and Porschia didn’t bite her. She controlled herself.”

“You call that ‘control’, young man?” Elder Beckett asked, his finger pointing to the spot in the grass where Porschia and Roman had just confronted one another.

“I do.” Stepping toward him, I asked, “Have you ever seen a vampire in Frenzy?”

The old man swallowed. “Not personally.”

“They wouldn’t have left any of you alive. You would all be dead if she was a threat to you. All of you. Don’t you get it? Somehow, she’s handling this better than any vamp I’ve ever seen turn. Give her a break!”