Warrior Rising (26 page)

She had heard Sorin, in her dream.

The sight of the big vampire with the long blond hair still gave her chills. Even in a dream, even when she knew he wasn’t real. She didn’t want to see his face, didn’t want to hear his voice. Emily sat beside Justin and took his hands in hers. “We will wish for him not to bother us, not ever again. Not in dreams, not in memory.” She thought of blocking Sorin, of keeping him away, and it was if a gold shimmer surrounded both her and Justin. It was comforting, that shimmer. Her brother didn’t comment, so maybe he didn’t see what she saw. It was silly to think that a wish might keep away dreams, but at the same time… mind over matter was a thing, right?

Justin relaxed. His expression changed in an instant. “I had a bad dream, but I don’t remember what it was about.”

For a moment Emily was alarmed, and then she forgot, too.

Indikaiya focused entirely on the vampires before her. As she fought she mindlessly listened to the music. It was odd how at times the fighting and the music seemed to meld, as if they were one. As if they were connected. She loved the sensation of losing herself in the powerful songs, but when she was in battle she made sure one ear was free. She needed to hear everything, not just the music that seemed to drive her.

She lost herself in the beat and the power, and took her enemies’ heads and their hearts with cold determination. She thought of Sorin with every well-placed swing of her blade.

She should have stopped thinking about him by now. He had not been the only soldier lost in this war. Humans had died. Worse, some had been turned into those monsters they fought. In Indikaiya’s mind, that was the worst. Chloe had retained much of herself after the change, but she was an exception to the rule. So many of the baby vampires were beyond control. Beyond who they had once been.

Indikaiya’s most recent regret had come when she’d had to take the life of a former police officer she had once fought alongside. He had become an enemy against his will. The final expression on his face had not been one of horror or regret, but of relief. Some of who he had been as a human had survived after all. Given time he, and some of the others, might’ve gained more control, become a vampire capable of choosing to fight for the humans instead of against them. Unfortunately, time was a luxury they did not possess.

Warriors, too, had fallen. Many had been sent hurtling back into their world, either to wait or to be called to this fight again.

It was a good thing they had not killed Nevada, when some had been thinking that would be the only way to reinstate the sanctuary spell. Her protection spells, delivered individually to humans and Warriors alike — including Indikaiya — did give them an edge.

Almost two months Sorin had been gone. Two months that moved by so slowly Indikaiya sometimes felt as if time had stopped. One day followed another, followed another.

She relished tonight’s battle. Embraced it. Lately there had been too many nights when she didn’t get to kill even a single vampire. Marie was changing her strategy. There were fewer battles in the open now, more sneak attacks on positions of power. Every night Marie and her army killed some humans while turning others. It seemed that for every vampire they killed, two more popped up to take its place. At this rate, the war would never end.

Marie. The vampire who had started this war had rarely been seen since the battle at the Lincoln Memorial. She had not been seen at all by any of Indikaiya’s fellow soldiers. There were days when Indikaiya remembered the moment when Marie had taken Sorin’s heart. She remembered watching a man she had come to care for turn to ashes and fly away on a summer breeze. Scattered. Nothing. Gone. And she dreamed of sending Marie into nothingness. Summer breezes had passed, but she could hope to send the vampire queen off on an autumn wind.

Indikaiya was somehow certain that Sorin had hurt Marie in that last battle, perhaps more than anyone realized. She had been weakened by the sun, as he had been, and that last cut had been deep.

His death had been a great loss to their side, as well as a great loss for her. She missed him. Living in a large library teeming with other Warriors, humans, and a few vampires, she always felt alone. She should be accustomed to being alone by now. She had lived that way for most of her life as a Warrior.

Beyond the army and those civilians who were determined to fight, few humans remained in the city. She didn’t blame them for getting out. There were reports now of open attacks in New York, Miami, and Atlanta, as Marie’s army tried to take the east coast from top to bottom.

At times like this one, where the vampires seemed to come from all directions, Indikaiya wondered if this war would ever end.

This small band of vamp rebels dispatched, she and Rurik walked side by side toward the vehicle which had transported them — along with Jimmy, Kevin, and Duncan — to this site where the vampires had been spotted. She checked out each soldier. Duncan was fine. He had a few wounds that would be healed by the time they got back to the library. Jimmy and Kevin had to be more careful. They had minor wounds that would need to be tended. Rurik had a gash on one arm, but it wasn’t serious.

No blade had touched Indikaiya. Not since Sorin had gone.

She looked back, spotted Cupcake sniffing at something on the ground, and called out a sharp, “Dog! Come!”

She was ignored. Indikaiya gave a sigh and then called again, “Cupcake!”

The dog responded to her name and trotted along to take her place at Indikaiya’s side. Rurik laughed, but he stopped when Indikaiya glared in his direction.

Jimmy and Kevin walked just slightly ahead of the two Warriors and the dog. They had become great friends. Perhaps that had been inevitable. They were human warriors in an army of immortals. Their needs and vulnerabilities were unique among their fellow soldiers. They needed quite a lot of food to maintain their strength, and in the last month food had become an issue for the humans.

“I’m starving,” Jimmy said, hitching his shoulder, adjusting his shotgun holster. “We’ll need to make a food run tomorrow. I think all we have left is Spam and Velveeta.” He made a low gagging noise.

“Hey, now,” Kevin said with a touch of indignation. “Don’t diss Velveeta. Velveeta is the cheese food of the gods.”

Jimmy did not argue. “What about Spam?”

Kevin sighed. “Fry it up and cover it with barbecue sauce and it’s not too bad. But the Velveeta… yummmm.”

“I want a steak,” Jimmy said. “A baked potato. Maybe a chocolate cake for dessert.”

“You’re killing me…”

Rurik slowed down and, with a hand on Indikaiya’s arm, indicated that she should fall back as well. She did. The humans’ conversation about food faded away. Just as well. They were making even her hungry! When the others were well ahead of them Rurik said, in a lowered voice, “Would you speak to Nevada?”

Like she had time to chat with a human! Indikaiya was a soldier, as strong as any man. Stronger than some. She did not have time for hand-holding, commiseration, and — she shuddered, recalling some recent overheard conversations — girl talk.

“Why? She and Kate have become friends. Whatever Nevada needs a female friend for, Kate will suffice.”

Rurik did not take the suggestion. “Nevada has not slept the past three nights, because she keeps seeing and hearing Sorin. Even though it had been many weeks, she has not accepted his final death…”

Indikaiya stopped in her tracks. “What do you mean, seeing and hearing him?”

Rurik turned to face her. “Nevada is exhausted and grief-stricken, and that has led to these delusions.”

Delusions? “Are you jealous that she cared for Sorin?”

“Not at all. She loves me. What she feels for Sorin is something else entirely.”

Something else. Sorin and the witch he had kidnapped had always shared a strange connection. Not love, not friendship, but…

Indikaiya almost gasped, caught up in the thought that slammed into her.

It was impossible. Sorin had been a vampire at the time of his death. She might as well not even mention the first, outrageous idea that had popped into her head. Rurik would think she had lost her mind. Instead of responding to his request, she changed the subject. “It is beyond foolish for you to become entangled with a human.”

He responded without hesitation. “My entanglement is no more foolish than yours.”

Indikaiya instinctively stepped back and away from him. Shocked. Hurt. The pain she felt was intense and unexpected.

Rurik still had his entanglement. Hers was no more.

“My apologies.” He gave her an almost formal bow. “I see the pain in you. I would not wish it for you.”

She started to argue that she had no pain, none at all, but why lie? Did others see it so clearly? The possibility annoyed her. That hurt was private, for her alone.

Again, she changed the subject. “I will speak to Nevada when we return.”

Rurik nodded. “I thank you. Perhaps sharing her grief with you will help her to move past it.”

Indikaiya nodded her head, but she said nothing. Her mind spun with possibility, with wonder. With hope.

She was not convinced that Nevada was suffering from
grief
.

Sorin was beyond frustrated. He had followed the instructions Hal had offered, he had watched his world — his old world — from this one, unable to help. Other Warriors came and went, though none lingered. Some of them were suspicious of him, of his presence in this sacred place. A Warrior who had once been a vampire was unprecedented.

Time passed differently in the two worlds. It seemed as if he had been here for days, but there, where he wished and needed to be, weeks had passed. He was needed there. He had to get back.

He saw this through the eyes of his descendent. His conduit. Nevada. The others, her brother and sister, had blocked him, somehow. Just as well. He needed to concentrate on one conduit, and Nevada was in the thick of things.

Thanks to him.

“There has to be a better way,” he grumbled. “Why do I have to be called? Why can’t I just go?”

“Patience, brother,” Hal said. “It is as it has always been. Do you not realize that I would be there if I could?”

His ability to watch, to see into the other world, was a gift he had picked up on quickly. He could turn it on and off at will. He rarely wished to turn it off. The more he knew, the more likely Nevada would be to realize what was going on and call him in.

He was ready. Sword in one hand, he waited to be called.

Tonight, Nevada paced in her room alone. He saw, he heard, as if watching a television with the picture fuzzy and the sound turned low. Sorin called her name and she spun around to face him. He could see her face; she saw nothing of him. The words he spoke were clear to him — precise and almost shouted — but to her, in her time and place, they were garbled. They were nonsense.

“Come on, Nevada,” he grumbled. “You can do this. You can hear me.”

He was not blind to the fact that not so long ago he had passed his time killing conduits, and now, here he was begging one to listen. To hear.

The door to Nevada’s room flew open and Indikaiya flew in. Blond braid flying, sword gripped in one hand, as always, she was a force of nature. God, he missed her. It had been mere days, for him, and yet it seemed much longer. For her, it truly had been longer. He reached out a hand, wishing he could burst through the film that separated them, wishing he could bridge the worlds to be with her again.

She and Nevada spoke, but he could not hear all. As his words had been for Nevada, these were garbled. Nonsense. Sorin fisted his free hand in frustration. Maybe he was not where he believed himself to be. This was hell, where he would forever see the woman he loved and yet not be able to touch her. To speak to her. Indikaiya looked over her shoulder as if she expected someone else to be there, though the room was small and it was clear Nevada was alone.

Nevada nodded her head, agreeing with whatever Indikaiya had said. She closed her eyes for a moment, she whispered a few indecipherable words, and then she looked directly at Sorin.

He reached out to her as she said, “Sorin, Warrior, please help. Please come into this world…”

He did.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Indikaiya had never been on this side of a trip between worlds. The lights, seemingly generated out of thin air in one corner of the room, were bright and beautiful. Blinding, almost, though she refused to close her eyes against the harsh glare as a human form took shape in the midst of the light.

Long blond hair. Plain clothing suited to another place and time. Tall leather boots. A massive sword.

Indikaiya held her breath, waiting. Waiting. She had grieved for Sorin these past weeks. She’d missed him. Longed for him. She’d loved him when he’d been a monster, and she would love him if he were a monster still.

But he was not.

As soon as Sorin was solid, Indikaiya dropped her own sword and flew across the room to jump into his arms. He caught her, as she had known he would. She grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him, long and hard. Deep and wonderful. He held her close with one arm around her waist, and he kissed her back. He was solid, warm,
real
.

“I did not think it was possible,” she said between kisses.

“Neither did I.” Sorin’s heart beat faster than she recalled; he breathed.

“I missed you.” It was an admission she would not have made a few weeks ago, not even to herself.

“Of course you did.” He grinned. His eyes did not glow, but they did seem to brighten. They were lively. They were
alive
. Sorin was no longer a vampire, he was an Immortal Warrior, but in many ways he had not changed all that much. He was still Sorin.

He placed her on her feet, but continued to hold her close. Indikaiya leaned in, she placed her head against Sorin’s chest and whispered. “I thought you were gone forever.”

“So did I.”

Nevada cleared her throat, reminding them that they were not alone. “Would someone like to explain to me what’s going on?”

Sorin nodded to the witch, but he did not release Indikaiya. “I now understand why you smelled like my daughter. You are her descendent. You are
my
descendant.”