The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One) Read online

  Their entire existence would change because of it.

  It was nearly time to come forward—a little sooner than any of them would have liked, true, but it was the only way to keep the world tipped toward balance.

  And not chaos.

  Chapter Ten

  Second Chances

  Justice came into Second Chances by the back door—the way he always did. The barkeep knew he was there, and didn’t miss a beat as he polished another glass and set it perfectly in line with the others. By the time Justice sat down, he was finished with his task and had taken out a rag to polish the beautiful, mahogany bar top. After several, long moments, where neither man spoke, the barkeep set down his rag, poured Justice a beer from the tap and set it before him.

  Finally, he took a stool in front of him.

  Justice took a long drink from his beer. He set it down. “Tell me about this one, Conrad.”

  Conrad was a large man. He was well over six feet tall, and muscular. He enjoyed what he was doing here, and he was thankful for it. Here he made a difference—after what had happened.

  No one knew what he was—no one except Justice and Dracon that is. In time, he might be reunited with who he truly was—but for now, he loved living his life, taking care of his tavern—and creating a hub where the information they needed could flow.

  “They are moving forward, trying to take the towns, one-by-one,” he told Justice, now. “If they’re not halted soon….”

  Justice nodded.

  “I took the girl to Dracon’s bunch.”

  “Good.”

  “They will have to teach her about their ways.”

  Justice winced. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “You know they want to control that power.”

  Justice set his glass down a little too hard. “They shouldn’t have been able to infect her. She should have been inoculated.”

  Conrad picked up his glass and poured him another. “You know those things don’t always take.”

  Justice shook his head. “It just shouldn’t have happened, that’s all… not to her,” he growled.

  Conrad nodded. “We keep beating them back, but they keep cropping up like the vermin they are.”

  Justice’s eyes took on a dangerous glint. “Then we’ll just have to make it harder on them—a hell of a lot harder.”

  “What are you thinking of doing?”

  “Instead of waiting for them to come to us—we’ll just have to take this war to them. It’s time.”

  The barkeep threw down his towel. “When do we get started?”

  “I need you to remain here.”

  Conrad scowled.

  “I’ll let you in when the war actually starts.” Justice grinned at his friend’s zeal. “But, for now, we need to sway as many of the outlaying groups to join us as possible.”

  Conrad nodded at this. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Justice sat there in silence for several, long moments, and Conrad let him. He went back to taking care of his bar. There weren’t more than eight customers in the tavern. Most of them were either sitting at a table, visiting, or hanging out around the pool table.

  After a long moment, Conrad came back to Justice. “So what are we going to do about the girl?”

  “We’re going to let Dracon’s group work with her before bringing her to Amar.”

  Conrad chewed that one over for a moment. “Does Jes know she has another sister?”

  Justice stared at his beer. He gave a nearly imperceivable shake to his head. “She doesn’t even know about the first one.”

  Conrad’s brow shot up. But he decided to leave that one alone.

  Justice sat in the bar for nearly two more hours—just mulling over his thoughts. He considered their plans for talking to the isolated factions of rogue vamps. The more of them they brought in, the better. They would be leaving soon—and the sooner the better.

  His thoughts turned to Jes.

  His Jes. He wished he never had to see her in battle—and knew that he would live to see the day as surely as he was sitting here now—and that it didn’t matter how he felt about it—it was destined to happen. He just needed to accept it, now, or it would affect his own fighting, and that could be dangerous to all. He must lead the people.

  Conrad came over and took his empty glass, returning within moments with a refill. He sat down across from Justice for a moment.

  “So you never told me what happened with that vamp who was after our latest help-ad victim,” he said after a moment.

  Justice took a long sip from his new beer, then set down his glass. “That one went much easier than expected. That vamp had been stalking people around that part of the city for some time. But his men were able to find him easily enough.”

  Conrad nodded. “Good. That poor girl was terrified out of her mind. He got her friend and was actually leaving notes… taunting her with crap about her being next.” His eyes were dark with anger, almost to the point of turning black.

  “It is what it is, isn’t it?” Justice commented. “And yet it just keeps getting more difficult with each victim.”

  Conrad stared at the tabletop. After a moment he got up and went back to work, giving out drinks to the thirsty men and women in his tavern.

  Justice watched him for a few moments, his thoughts returning to the last few years. He had lost her once. He wouldn’t do so again. He would do whatever he could to protect her.

  Now, he had found her missing sister, but the circumstances were not ideal. Her sister would have to go with Dracon’s people frequently, at first, until she learned to deal with her hunger. He didn’t really like that idea. But they could teach her much about that.

  He knew that Jes would be very happy that he had found their lost sister. The power of three would be complete just as soon as they did their ceremony. Justice knew this gave Jes the added protection that she needed.

  For centuries, the power of three was known—in many areas. The maiden, the mother and the crone was one example. The church used it in the father, the son, and the holy spirit, or holy ghost. The three fates were another example. And Justice knew that the three sisters were stronger together than they were apart. The question was—at least until they had dealt with these rogue factions of vamps—how to go about getting the sisters together—or keeping them together.

  Especially when one was—herself—a vamp.

  Chapter Eleven

  War

  Jes stretched between her rose-colored sheets. She’d been having the oddest dream, and it took her a moment to orient herself to her room. Being in several places the last few days tended to do that to her.

  Her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and she found him sitting in a chair, watching her. Something told her this time was different—this time he was here because he was afraid for her.

  “What time is it?”

  “About 5:00 a.m.,” he said just above a whisper.

  “Do you ever sleep?”

  “I average about four hours most nights.”

  She sat part-way up, leaning on one elbow, peering at him. “How on Earth do you survive on four hours of sleep?”

  He shrugged. “It’s enough.”

  She sat all the way up now, aware that his hot gaze followed her as she did so. It made her blood catch fire, and her breath came out in a whoosh from the force of it. She quickly changed the direction of her wayward thoughts.

  “You’re afraid for me,” she accused him.

  “You’re afraid of me.”

  She saw the white of his teeth, knew he was grinning at her lecherously. She glared at him and he sobered.

  “You’re my mate, Jes,” he said softly.

  Her lips compressed in a line. She didn’t trust herself to speak, but it didn’t matter. He already knew her every thought.

  He leaned forward in his chair and she held up a hand to stave him off.

  “I need time, Justice.”

  He nodded, leaning back in his chair. This he k
new. They couldn’t have any kind of future as long as she thought of him as a murderer.

  “Why are you so afraid for me?” Her tone dared him to deny that he was.

  He sat there, quietly.

  “Don’t sit there and think of a way to answer me. I deserve to know the truth, especially if I’m in danger. Don’t you think?”

  He nodded. “Just give me a second, Jes.”

  She bent her knees and wrapped her arms around them in an instinctually protective gesture. “Please, Justice. Don’t try to sugarcoat it. I’m a cop. I can take it.”

  “Okay,” he leaned back further in the overstuffed chair, getting comfortable.

  The gesture told her this was going to take awhile, and he nodded at the thought. “You really have got to stop doing that.”

  He gave a half-smile. “No, Jes. Not with you. It’s impossible. You think it, and it’s there in my head, as surely as if it were my own thought. With other I have to work for it.”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. It sounded as if she would never get him to stop reading her mind.

  He only nodded. “Okay, where to begin?” He was silent for a long moment, while she waited with more than a little trepidation. She somehow knew he was about to fill in a lot of the missing puzzle pieces for her.

  “You already know some of this—maybe much of this. But stay with me for a moment. I need to lay some groundwork for what I’m about to tell you.” He paused again for a long moment—clearly trying to figure out how to tell her this. “Some humans,” he began, “are wise enough to know that they’re not alone. And some even want to believe, want to know what is out there. Few of these humans believe in us. But many more believe in the Vampire Race, however misaligned the Crow People are from the crossing of these legends. There is a distinct difference between the race and the vampire myths. They’ve become blended over the centuries. These come from two different things. One is a race—the other a broken spirit—a spirit who walks the earth at night.”

  Jes nodded, she did know this, but she didn’t want to interrupt—she was too eager to hear the parts she didn’t know.

  “Well, the race has several factions, and a hierarchy—much like ours. Only—unlike ours, some of those factions are pretty, ummm….”

  “Powerful….” She whispered.

  He nodded. “Much too powerful, since some of them just don’t agree with their leaders—much less want to listen to or follow those leaders. And that makes it much more difficult to maintain an Alliance with our people.”

  Jes frowned. She knew this too—but she hadn’t realized how serious it was.

  “Your—grandparents come from an elite faction of our people. They are—were powerful enough to keep you safe, even when several of the rogue groups hunted our parents.”

  Jes gasped. He held up a hand to stave off the litany of frustrated—terrified words she wanted to spill.

  “Yes, Jes; these factions of the Crow People have been hunting for my parents—and for us. Only by our Alliance with the leaders—and those leaders agreeing to do all in their power to protect you—were you kept out of it. My sisters and I had to disappear.”

  Jes was horrified at the implications of this. “Why didn’t you say so!”

  His eyes darkened. He leaned forward in the overstuffed chair. “You were too happy calling me a murderer.”

  “You murdered humans!”

  He sat back in the chair, mute.

  She didn’t like the implications of that either. But she could find no way around that. He had killed humans. They were humans! Her mind scrambled with the possibilities. But he was reading her mind. So she worked to turn off the faucet of police-trained questions that were wracking her brain.

  “Okay, have it your way, Jes.” He sat there quietly. After a moment—he went on.

  “Our people have had an uneasy Alliance with the elite Crows for centuries. We are here to protect the humans….” He bit this part out, his eyes narrowing on her, defying her to start her litany of judgments.

  She kept still, though—it was not an easy task.

  “But here was a race with several rogue factions who had great difficulty controlling the even-further-rogue members of its cast—and those members sometimes feed on humans.” His face twisted at the thought.

  She didn’t know what to make of his obvious disgust. How could a…? She put a lid on that thought. She looked up to find him watching her intently, and swallowed under his gaze. She rested her face against her arms, still wrapped around her knees, and gazed back at him. Waiting.

  “These factions of vamps are powerful,” he finally went on. “One you don’t want to trifle with. And they are not ones you would want for your enemy. But they are… nevertheless… rogue.”

  He was quiet for a long moment, and she was afraid he would stop there, but she remained silent and was rewarded after a moment when he did continue.

  “There is a prophecy amongst both of our races—of an elite member of the Jaguar People—one who resembles our ancestors’ prince beings, one who has violet-white, almost-translucent skin, one who has violet eyes, one like the member of the army—Lucius. And for awhile the people thought that Lucius was him—although he clearly told them he was not. This one was to bring balance to both races. And the people have looked for him for a long, long time.”

  She sat up straight now, excited, and nodded. She had heard the story. Did he know who this one was?

  He nodded. “I do know who he is. And I have been trained since birth for the moment he would step forward and make himself known. At least—I was being trained—as were my sisters—up until the moment everything began falling apart for my family.” His lips curled around these last words, his gaze taking on a faraway look. “Our parents disappeared—long before they disappeared. And I’ve had hell trying to figure out why.”

  He looked at her now. “There were some amongst our people—who did not agree that this one should ever step forward or that these two races should never find any peace. Several amongst these groups have lost loved ones to the rogue clans of the Crow People. They see the entire race as their mortal enemies. They don’t want peace. They want only war!”

  She was startled by the vehemence of his words. Was he one who wanted war with them?

  “No,” his tone gentled now. “But I do understand them. However, these ones are shortsighted. First, you cannot go to war with an entire race for the actions of a few who lie outside the body of these people. The majority are not just our allies—but our friends. Many are like brothers to us.”

  He took a deep breath. “The second reason is that a war like that would nearly annihilate both of our tribes. It would be foolish beyond measure. To even entertain such a notion—it would be beyond foolishness, and I cannot understand what these they could be thinking. It is the mark of the insane to entertain the notion that they are so infallible as to take on an entire Vampire Race—and win! Yes! We are a powerful people! But so are they.” He paused, then said, “This war would annihilate us both!”

  “Without a doubt!” Jes seconded. “I can’t imagine… who would think this suicidal move would be smart?” she cried out, matching his vehemence. “Do you know who they are? They must be stopped before they succeed with such foolishness!”

  He sat back into the plushness of his chair—clearly pleased to hear her answer.

  She frowned. “Did you think that I would agree with such nonsense? Going to war with the entire Crow race would be suicide for both of our races! Why would you ever think that I would back such ridiculousness?” She was appalled—and hurt. How could he think that? Why would he think that?

  He winced. “Jes,” he said. His tone was gentle—too gentle.

  She was strangling. She wanted him to go on—but was suddenly very afraid to hear the answer.

  “Your—father leads this rebellion…,” he was choking on the end of that, as if he could barely get the words out.

  But she didn’t care. She bolted out of
the bed and stood over him. “You lie! I should kill you for such a lie.”

  It was the gentle look in his steady gaze that told her the truth. And then he was up, gathering her into his arms, smoothing her hair—whispering to her—in the next instant. “I wish I did… Goddess, Jes, I wish I did…”

  She was sobbing. She couldn’t breathe though the sobs. She felt as if she was suffocating. It couldn’t be true! Her father would never do that! Please don’t let it be true!

  It was a long time before she had calmed down enough to think at all. He had lowered them both to her bed, and lay there holding her, whispering how sorry he was that she ever had to know this.

  “Why did I have to know?” she finally whispered. “I mean, I would want to know. I have to know the truth. But something tells me you would have rather I never knew that.”

  He tucked her hair behind her ear, running a finger down her face. “I had no choice. If you didn’t know… you wouldn’t know the source of the danger you are in now… or just how difficult it will be to—keep them from getting to you….”

  The hairs stood up on the nape of her neck. “But… wouldn’t the rogue Crows be on the same side as my father? Wouldn’t they want to destroy the Alliance?”

  “Yes, some of them are. Some of them work closely with your father… but…”

  “Some do not…,” she finished for him.

  He nodded and got up from the bed. She knew why. Her body was on fire. Here she was… shocked to the core with grief—and her body was on fire.

  “Jes,” he half-growled, with his back to her.

  “Sorry,” she flushed. “I need to know why I’m in so much danger,” she said, trying to steer them to safer ground. Now is not the time! she told herself sternly—and heard his groan under his breath.

  He sat back in his chair, a much safer distance from her. She could see he struggled, which was something given his ability to shut out all the emotions from his face.