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Vindicta (The Liquidator Wars Book 1) Page 2
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“That does not matter. It is not only the Sapphire Eye we must protect. We must ensure your survival as well, as a Daughter of Electi. We cannot lose any more of our people.”
Brynn placed her free hand on Natalia’s shoulder, letting the warmth of what she had just been holding in her hand move through the woman’s thin flesh to reassure her.
“I am sorry, Natalia. I know we must protect our ranks, but I can’t just sit back and watch us fall to the Liquidators. I am avenging those that have fallen to their will, and I will not stop until every slayer is dead.”
Her other hand rose to cup Brynn’s cheek, shaking as her eyes squeezed shut like she was attempting to close herself off to something. A vision maybe, but Brynn could feel the thrumming of the sun’s power becoming stronger the longer she stood there with the female. When she opened them again her irises were completely white, Brynn’s image reflecting in them, her eyes wide with anxiety and exhaustion.
“Your thirst for vengeance will one day be your undoing, Brynn. And I hope your soldiers won’t be too late.”
“You don’t have to worry,” she reassured Natalia in a soft tone. “I want to see it. That is if you don’t mind.”
***
Natalia smiled at Brynn and glided across the room on nimble feet, moving to the far wall. She brushed her hand over its smooth white expanse with love and pride. The wall moved slightly, and then began to slide into the stone surrounding them and exposing the experiment her and Brynn had been working on for months. Something Brynn told her soldiers would give them a significant advantage in the war against the Liquidators.
This operation had started off as a just an idea, not anything concrete despite the fact that the Electi possessed some of the most advanced technologies known to the magical world. And this was indeed magic, the fusing of the supernatural and scientific.
It was something Natalia was insanely proud of as was the eldest Daughter of Electi. She could feel the young vampire’s excitement fluttering inside of her chest as the wall opened up to allow them entrance into the lab.
Brynn walked into the room, taking in the familiar sight of large glass tubes filled with synthetic amniotic fluid to ensure the survival of the embryos. The two women had worked tirelessly to create the creatures that grew within the glass and metal homes. Both women moved to stand in front of one that they were most satisfied with. Even though Natalia couldn’t see in the literal sense, her mind’s eye had proven to be quite useful in managing the world around her.
A bird-like face framed large, closed eyes as a long beak protruded from its center. Massive wings folded against its enormous body, covered in paper-thin leathery wings. They were so much like the creatures that roamed the Earth eons ago but different in one way in particular.
Vampire blood had been infused into them along with the magic of the Fae, making them a formidable weapon. The Zoo, as they had come to call it, was powerful and beautiful.
“She’s almost ready,” Brynn stated in a breathy voice filled to the brim with excitement.
“Oh yes, nearly there. I would say she will be ready to take flight in the next twenty-four hours. As well as five others. Your army is almost ready, and we are clear to implant another ten within seventy-two hours.”
“Fantastic.”
Natalia watched Brynn with her mind’s eye, taking in her wide eyes and small knowing smile.
“Keep up the good work, Oracle. You are the true genius of the Electi.”
Chapter Three:
Madness Rising
Brynn stirred gently underneath twisted sheets in the darkened room, the substantial thickness of the blackout curtains, gray velvet lined with a triple layer of dark flannel shut out all the offending sunlight that would cause her pale flesh to burn and smolder with contact.
Across the expanse of the room, underneath a heavily silk laden headboard on the opposite side, slept Brynn’s younger sister Gwenyth. She was only a few years younger than Brynn but held an aristocratic air that made her seem much older. Gwenyth had her own well-appointed room in the mansion they were staying in long ago built by another family of their race. It had been left to rot, but Brynn had instantly fallen in love with it the first moment she set eyes on the once majestic structure, and she found that she couldn’t let it go to waste. She snatched it from the real estate market quickly and remodeled and refurnished it to have the best that life in a modern world could offer.
Brynn couldn’t sleep without being in proximity to her younger sister even though they both had their own bedchambers. She had always been Gwenyth’s surrogate mother, nurse, confidant, and teacher. Gwenyth was growing into a striking beauty, but she had been marked with a disability that caused most entities that met her to avert their eyes, cluck their tongues sympathetically or turn away in aversion once they noticed it. In particular, those of the aristocracy, which they were a part of not just because of Brynn’s station, but also because of their family lineage.
Gwenyth had a withered arm, a defect that was very rare within the vampire ranks but an anomaly nonetheless. A clumsy delivery at birth had caused her left forearm and hand to become shrunken and wasted, very much in contrast to her smooth, creamy complexion and flawless figure. The rest of her was perfect even. And Brynn felt sorry for her sister, worrying that she wouldn’t be able to find someone worthy of her. There didn’t seem to be a single man that looked her way because of the affliction that was in no way her fault, just something that she was. Gwenyth acted as if it didn’t bother her, but Brynn knew the truth.
Brynn had long shielded her sister from speculative glances as best she could, but there was only so much one could do short of locking her away in their home. She’d been seven years old when Gwenyth was born and remembered the joy, bustle, and anticipation of the birth of her wealthy parent’s second child. Even she had been excited about the new arrival.
And then there was the sad hush that had followed, the unveiling of the hideous appearance of the newborns arm sucking the air out of the chamber like a vacuum. It was something Brynn had never seen as a defect no matter how others had spoken of it. When she was a child, she felt as if it made her sister special and never recognized the handicap as such, but that didn’t stop the whispers of others that would quickly dismiss her as soon as she walked into a room. Even with Brynn at her side, she was always treated as an outcast. That certainly didn’t change after the death of their parents. If anything, it worsened after that.
When they both became the wards of her Uncle Vincent, after the tragic and untimely deaths of their parents, their uncle had insisted Gwenyth wear a thick glove over her withered arm at all times. Though the glove was nicely made and bejeweled, it only served to stigmatize Gwenyth even more deeply.
When Brynn confronted her uncle, demanding that Gwenyth be allowed to dispense with the glove, he had become irate.
“This is my house,” he told her as she stood before him, her cheeks flushed with indignation on her little sister’s behalf, “I cannot and will not tolerate the display of anything that speaks of weakness or imperfection. Your sister has a lovely face and form, but they are all but eclipsed by her withered appendage. Do you realize what a huge dowry I will have to offer to make certain she marries well?”
Brynn had bristled for Gwenyth’s sake at her uncle’s harsh diatribe.
“We are nonetheless true Daughters of the Electi, the Chosen Ones. How dare you insinuate that my sister is something less?” She couldn’t stop the words as they rushed from her lips, containing the harsh tones of disdain that she barely attempted to hide.
The blow came suddenly, splitting her bottom lip and causing blood droplets to fly into the air between them, the taste of iron hitting her tongue and flooding her mouth.
It was to be the first time living as his ward that her Uncle Vincent had ever struck her, and the last.
“Go girl!” he had thundered, towering over her, “I see you have inherited your mother’s sharp tongue. That is unfortun
ate. Remove yourself from my sight and never question me again. Gwenyth will wear the glove, even on her wedding night I assure you. No male entity wants imperfection in his bride, and she will wear it, or I will lock her away.”
Brynn turned onto her side as she pushed the thoughts away, looking toward the darkened window to her right and sighing with irritation. The ghosts of the past always visited her when she was supposed to be resting. Sleep was always an issue, her thoughts always running rampant with what her life was then and what it had become.
When she was born, they realized she had a gift that was even rarer than any physical defect within their race. The gift allowed her to see the Quaji of those close to or at death’s door. The Sapphire Eye was something that had been coveted by many for centuries but only surfaced in a rare few, including her. And sometimes she even wondered if it was truly a curse wrapped in the guise of an extremely deceptive gift. She had been told multiple times that she should feel grateful that a higher power saw fit to place this gift upon her shoulders, but she always felt weighed down by it, truly appreciating it only once since she had realized its purpose. That didn’t keep her from realizing the preciousness of the Quaji, though, knowing it could replenish their population if only she could locate the Mage that could replenish them. Only he could convert them into the forms they desperately needed, and she had been searching the texts for years in an attempt to learn of his location but failed in her attempts so far.
She rolled onto her back, moaning because the gentle hum within her bones marked the time at around noon. At this rate, she knew sleep would escape her as it had a tendency to do and she should at least do something useful with her crippling insomnia. Instead, she decided that she needed rest and closed her eyes with a reluctant sigh.
She finally drifted into a state that floated somewhere between full wakefulness and the sound restorative sleep that her war-torn body desperately craved when she heard a tapping on the door. As she turned toward the sound, Bayn burst in, breathing ragged and urgency in his wide eyes.
“Apologies, Daughter of the Electi,” he said, a look of all seriousness on his face. “There is a breach in the far Quadrant and four fatalities already. It is a small contingent of Rogues of some sort that we have never seen before, clad in black leather with hoods over their faces. They are fierce fighters.”
Brynn immediately sat up and turned her back to Bayn. He averted his eyes as she shucked her sleeping gown down from her shoulders to her waist, donning first a leather vest and then a leather tunic over it. Kicking the gown away, she pulled up leather breeches and was pulling on stout boots when she remarked, “How do you know they are Rogues?”
Bayn turned around again. His face reddened. He’d never understood Brynn’s lack of modesty in times like this. He and Tarren had been infatuated with her from the time they had first met. Not only because of her careless, wild beauty but also for her courage.
But, damn, didn’t she know what the occasional glimpses of her half naked body could do to a man?
“Wait,” he said, daring to grab Brynn’s arm as she walked past him, “You haven’t had anything to drink, and you are still healing. As always, I am honored to be of service.”
Brynn looked for a moment as though she’d like to refuse, but finally, her shoulders sagged in resignation.
“I know you’re right, and Calyx would insist anyway. I do feel the Thirst and need the energy. But let’s hurry.”
Bayn kept his composure though the excitement he felt at the thought of Brynn feeding from him welled up from his inner core. He unbuttoned his shirt in the front so that she might have access to his throat and well-muscled chest. She hesitated only a few seconds before pulling him closer and sinking her fangs into one of his well-defined pecs.
Bayn experienced a sort of euphoria as she fed, as well as many sexual stirrings. The thought of her perfect cupid bow mouth on his skin thrilled him.
He would gladly have let her drain him, but the feeding was over too soon. Brynn was all business as she wiped a blood droplet from the corner of her mouth and licked her finger.
“Thank you,” she said brusquely, “Now, tell me what you know of these attackers.”
“They displayed no Sigil,” he told her, “No emblem of any house and no coat of arms or crest or flag of any territory or creed. Our troops are readying now, and we must hurry because they have set a fire at every point where our slain have fallen.”
“Very well then,” Brynn said, glad to be moving around. “But we know they are the enemy, because of the hour they have chosen to attack us. Most likely Liquidators that have decided to act on their own. Please have three of our Elite Guard stay behind to guard my sister.”
“As you wish,” Bayn affirmed as he turned and shouted to someone outside in the hall. “You two. Stay here with the sister.”
“Yes, sir,” two large males replied as they shifted into the room, Gwenyth just now sleepily rousing from sleep because of the racket and the shouting.
Her eyes were wild with fright as she took in the two men that came to stand before her as she moved toward the threshold, her blonde hair matted to her sweaty forehead caused by the heat. Her blue eyes that reminded Brynn so much of her own shimmered in the darkness surrounding them, her fear palpable throughout the room as her mouth fell open in shock.
“Brynn? What’s happening?” she asked as Brynn walked toward her and stood before her, placing her hand on her sister’s to comfort and ease her. Gwenyth pulled her nightgown closer to her chest in a display of aristocratic modesty. A real lady even in chaos.
Even though Brynn was fearful, she could not let her little sister see it because she was not the type to do so. She fought bravely, always showing a fierceness that frightened their enemies. Because she was a female, any enemy that met her was terrified of the long fangs and quick movements, always bowing down to her in the end. Especially those that belonged to the Liquidators’ ranks.
“You will stay here with these men. You don’t have to worry, sister.” Brynn stood and turned to the men, pointing at Gwenyth as the next words left her lips. “She doesn’t leave this room. Got it?”
“Yes, Daughter of Electi,” both men whispered in response, lowering their heads briefly in fealty. They knew that they must protect Brynn’s younger sister from harm even if it meant their own deaths.
“You’re not afraid Brynn, but you should be,” Calyx told her as they moved quickly through the hall and descended the twisting spiral steps from the upper rooms in tandem. Their shadows moved along the clean white blue with the dim light. Any more than this and it would hurt their eyes during the day. “They have some sort of magic that summons flame, and they seem to be able to direct it. It is unnatural and dies after a short time, but can still inflict pain and damage. Plus, the sun is still out.”
“How the Hell do the Liquidators manage to get such things?” Brynn asked petulantly as they continued their way down, each step vibrating through her entire body just like the sun that was still hanging high in the sky.
“I’m not sure, but as long as you can avoid dying again…”
Brynn turned to her friend, reaching to squeeze her hand. Calyx’s glowing eyes were several shades deeper with concern as.
“I promise not to die,” Brynn told her, “If you will promise me something in return.”
They had reached the massive oak door that opened to the outside. Tarren and Bayn were close behind them, but neither spoke a word. They were waiting to hear what Brynn would say to her lifelong friend.
“I know you are half Fae, but don’t hover so much. Please? I can’t concentrate on the fight if I sense you on my heels.”
Calyx grinned and nodded. “I know you are prepared, my Sister, my Sorror Bellator. Now that you have promised me I know everything will be okay. You never break a promise.”
Several of Brynn’s Elite Guard fell in behind them. Brynn glanced behind her and nodded to several of them, including one of her newest recruits, Ry
der Perkins.
He had shown up fighting on their side at a critical time during one of their skirmishes several months before. He was a vampire. Brynn could attest to that. He had the scent of all vampire males, a combination of seawater and stone and musk. The scent that would fill your lungs as you stood on cliffs overlooking the ocean.
Tarren and Bayn had taken an instant dislike to Ryder and cautioned Brynn about trusting him, especially including him in the ranks of the Elite Guard. She had dismissed their fears. He had fought long, hard and successfully for their side ever since.
Still, she mused. Tarren and Bayn were right about one thing. Ryder was somewhat more than a vampire. When he’d told her his backstory she had sensed immediately that he was leaving something, or maybe several somethings, out.
The bottom line was she felt safer having him in their ranks rather than outside of them. If she spurned him, she reasoned that he would have to become a mercenary, and she would rather have him fighting with them than against them.
Calyx agreed with her. Calyx had a pronounced sense of potential danger when it came to Brynn, and she assured Brynn that as far as Ryder was concerned, he would protect her loyally.
Still, the Twins never looked pleased to see him, merely nodding when they were in the same room, and making sure they gathered more tightly around Brynn and Gwenyth than usual as if they expected him to turn on her at any minute.
***
The heavy door flew open to unveil the commotion of dust and the flash of daggers and swords and the coppery smell of blood. The sunlight filtered in, and they had not had a chance to prepare for the onslaught of rays, their gear that had been enchanted by the Fae to help them go out in the sunlight in case of events like this still hung by the door. None of them had had a moment to slip the thin fabric over their exposed flesh before the doors opened and the assault began.
The Fae had always worked within proximity with the vampires because they shared one common enemy. The Liquidators were slayers, but they didn’t focus on the evil of the world. They targeted everything supernatural in nature, even though they were cut from the same magical cloth. They were good once, their souls corrupted by evil and you could smell bitter and burned remnants of the souls that lingered within them.