

Primordial

Vampin Book Series #10

By Jamie Ott

Copyright   2011 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without permission.

For more information: ladysonoma@americamail.com

ISBN: 978-0615564053

Relax
Chapter 1

It had been a month since she'd met Credenza and the Primordial vampires on the side of the road. Despite the time that had passed, the smell of burnt flesh still tortured her. It lingered over the entirety of Lake George.

Thousands of dead vampires were burnt to ash, there.

Starr was on her way back from the library, in the next city over.

In the silver Mercedes she'd stolen from a cabin down the way, she tried to gun it up the steep incline of the mesa. At the top was the house where she and the kids, from the clinic, were staying, since their cabin burned down.

"Damn," she cursed.

She'd never learned how to drive stick, though she'd read about it in school.

A foul smoke filled the car. She pressed the gas, harder. It made terrible whining noises and then died.

Deciding it wasn't worth damage to the clutch, she restarted the car and parked it on the side of the road, and then walked the rest of the way up to the house.

The mesa top was a great place for her and the others. It had a large beautiful house with views, and all the amenities of a hotel. With only a few square miles of land at the top and jagged rock covered in trees all along its sides, it was highly unlike anyone would try to climb up.

She trudged the twenty yards of incline, kicking up dirt into her nose and mouth.

In the last cabin, which now lay in a pile of ash directly across the lake, they'd had several stampedes of vamps sneak up on them. But most newly made vampires couldn't fly or levitate, so the mesa was perfectly safe. Those that did make it up the road were spotted by their dust clouds, and killed before they ever reached the top.

As she walked over the last bit of incline, she spotted her friend and fellow vampire, Shane, in the front yard, messing around in the flower bed, as usual.

Although many vampires came into telepathic abilities, Shane's were the most powerful of any she'd ever met. Sometimes, it was too much for her, which is why she spent so much time working in the garden; it was peaceful and away from the ever constant thoughts, internal monologue, and feelings that people always had.

Of them all, Shane was the strongest vampire, though in a way she was the most crippled, too. Unlike Marla, who never needed to sleep anymore, and Mica, who had super hearing, Shane's ability to hear thoughts and feel other's feelings never gave her rest, except in sleep.

Everyone else at the mesa house was human.

"Hey," she said, as she stood up and wiped her forehead. "Any luck?"

"Yeah, actually."

She held up a large book. "Thanks. I don't know what I would've done without you."

Weeks ago, an ancient vampire, Credenza, rescued her from a fire. She'd passed out, and when she woke, Credenza was gone.

Starr was alone in a strange house with an altar at her feet. Later, when she asked her about it, she refused to explain. Fortunately, she didn't seem to realize that she'd left something behind: an old book with the words Necro-Grimoire etched into its leather cover.

Necro, from the word nekros, as a fellow vampire explained, was a Greek word that meant dead. A grimoire was a book of spells.

This particular grimoire, though rebound, was especially old.

Credenza's actions towards Starr had been suspicious for a while. She was sure that whatever Credenza was up to, the book would be a vital clue.

Her first attempt to translate went alright, but it didn't make complete sense. She knew there were over a dozen versions of Latin, but hadn't known that Classical was the written language of choice, back then. For someone well versed in Latin, it was no big deal to translate classical using another dialect, but Starr hadn't a clue of any version of the language.

From inside the house came best buddies, Josh and Rick, carrying large boxes of food. They stowed them into the back of a large blue SUV they'd picked up in town.

When she found them stranded in their high school cafeteria, some months back, she invited them to come to the Lake. Since New York City was in danger of being blown to bits by the government, in an attempt to get rid of all the vampires, they had no choice but to leave immediately.

Rick was lucky; he'd finally made contact with his parents, who were in Ohio. Many families were separated when the vampires stormed the city, and many still had no clue what happened to them.

Starr continued upstairs to her bedroom where she dropped the Latin translation book on her bed, and then went downstairs to help out with dinner.

In the kitchen, Mot, Mica and Lucas were cutting up onions and potatoes as Marla and Misaki shelled and shucked eggs and corn.

That night they had dinner on the long glass table in the backyard, next to the pool and jacuzzi.

The sun was setting earlier and earlier.

"So what are we gonna do?" asked Mot, in between bites of burger. "When winter comes, are we gonna be crammed in this house the entire time?"

Starr looked across the lake and inhaled deeply. The air had grown heavy, indicating that fall was already in the air.

"Well?" he said loudly, distracting Starr from her thoughts.

She sighed and looked at him.

"Why are you asking me?"

"You're the leader, no?"

"I don't have all the answers. I wish you guys would stop looking to me, all the time."

After a moment of silence, Danny said, "I have to admit that I can hardly stand to think of it; being cooped up here all winter. It's a nice place but small."

"The clinic was smaller," said Becky.

"But that was different: we got out and did things."

"You know, I never thought I'd miss school but I do," said Misty. "What worries me more is if society should rebound, then we'll be behind. Imagine having to repeat grades, and not graduating high school until we're twenty years old."

"What about me?" asked Misaki, who was a half Chinese-half Japanese immigrant. "I'm supposed to be working on my citizenship, but I can't even get a passport from my country. I get absolutely no reply, every time I call the Administration in Hong Kong."

"Same here," said Mot.

His nationality was Danish.

"I can't even begin to work on my citizenship."

"Maybe we should think about moving on?" Starr suggested.

Everyone got real quiet for a moment. Starr took a bite of her potato salad.

"Where would we go?" asked Misaki.

~~~

The next morning, they bade goodbye to Rick and Josh. They were pretty excited to leave, and Starr wasn't going to hold them back, but she was concerned.

What if something happened along the way?

It occurred to her that people, in her life, could disappear forever, and she'd never know what happened to them. For a vampire, it was hard to feel complex emotions, but there was something about this thought that disturbed her; made her uneasy.

That afternoon, Starr sat at the bottom of the dock, watching the others fish and swim as she translated the first pages of the grimoire into a pink, leather bound journal she'd picked up at the pharmacy in town.

'Herein lies a book of tools to break veils; to travel to many worlds; to guide you on your path to enlightenment; to reach out to trusted souls, and find the key to the universe,' she wrote.

As the sun warmed her back, it happened again.

Oh no, she thought to herself.

At first, it started off as a tickling in her ear, but then always developed into a brain bursting aneurism.

"Ugh!"

She put her hands on the back of her scalp and pressed inward; then she put pressure on her aching eyes, trying to smooth out the spasms.

"Are you okay?" asked Marla. She laid spread out on a towel with sunglasses and a magazine.

"Yeah, just another crazy flash."

Ever since Lucenzo was taken away, he'd been trying to communicate with her, telepathically.

He was the main culprit behind the attempt at a vampire apocalypse. His father also happened to be a Primordial bent on punishing him for it, and he'd been doing so ever since he took him away, that night on the side of the road.

It was painful for Starr to watch and hear how he beat and tortured him. Even though she hated Lucenzo for beheading her, months ago, she felt bad for him.

The Primordials were the first vampires. According to Credenza, human vampirism was the result of a virus spread by them, a long time ago when they began to die out. Many tales of blood sacrifices, throughout history, to gods, were actually humans worshipping the Primordials. They weren't gods and weren't humans; just another form of life on Earth.

"What did you see?"

"Same thing: White room with gold colored bars, like a jail would have, only fancier."

Sometimes, she'd see the outside of the place they kept him in, too. It was a white and grey castle that could have housed multiple cities, and it lay in a land that was layered with snowy peaks. The sun was often blaring loudly against an extremely cold blue-gray sky.

Where ever it was, the place was so high in the atmosphere that it looked hard to breath. It was a peak that no one had ever been to, or, at least, not for a very long time.

"What do you think he's trying to tell you?" asked Mica who was rubbing SPF on her back.

"It's like he's trying to show me where he's at, but I don't want to know. Obviously, the Primordials keep their location hidden for a reason. Sometimes, though, I see a red ball."

"What?"

"I don't know; like an orb or a large marble."

That night, as she lay in bed, she contemplated how to approach relocating.

Mot was right, but where should we go? New York? Boston? Somewhere else?

She needed to find a place where good people had gathered.

But, how?

Televisions didn't work, and neither did radios. The only way she'd find a place would be to search on foot.

But wouldn't that put them in danger?

Not herself, particularly, as she was one of the more powerful vampires of the world: she shared the blood of Credenza. The kids were the ones she was concerned about.
Nekros
Chapter 2

Next morning, Starr's inner demon woke her with a low growl in her stomach. It had been a few days since she'd had blood. Although they didn't need to drink, it was a good idea to feed their monster, regularly; otherwise, they could vamp out.

Vamp out was a term used to describe when their inner demon took over, controlling them like mindless zombies who wandered about, eating whatever crossed their paths, just like the zombies Lucenzo created to take over the world with.

To quench their thirst, they'd often seek squirrels in the trees. Sometimes, they'd be lucky and catch a raccoon or a rabbit.

She rose from her bed, brushed her teeth and changed.

Downstairs, Misty and Kay were eating cereal at the kitchen table.

Starr put some coffee in a cup and walked down the road.

By now the kids knew not to follow or question Starr, or the others, when they went on their little 'walks.'

When they first took the kids in, at the clinic, they worked hard to conceal their conditions because they didn't want to frighten them.

After the rogue vampires attacked, it became impossible to hide their afflictions. There was something that was extremely repulsive about the new species of vampires that Lucenzo made. For Starr and others, their inner demon knew they were nothing like them. When they got too close, they couldn't control what happened; their fangs would extend, their eyes would change, and sometimes, they couldn't stop growling.

While afraid at first, the kids got over it when they realized that having vampires as protectors was probably the only thing that kept them alive, for Lucenzo's vampires were strong and fast, like they were.

Quietly, she stepped into the brush, just off her path, and toward a spot where she smelled urine.

Hmmm...she said to herself.

The urine reminded her of something else, certainly not a raccoon. To her right, she saw some chewed leaves on a tree branch. Below it, the dirt was unsettled.

She took another sip of her coffee and walked past the dirt.

Come out, come out, she called with her mind; a nifty trick she'd recently picked up.

She loved to hunt by instinct only, but, some days, she needed to eat and get on with her day.

A moment later, it appeared: a young and still doe eyed deer, about the size of a dog, except with long elegant legs.

The way the deer tilted its pretty head, and how its eyes shone innocently, charmed her, for a moment.

She walked closer, kneeled down and slowly raised her hand to its head. Its ears flinched a little, as she pet him.

Go, she said to it.

For a moment, it stayed right where it was, looking at her curiously, and then walked off slowly.

From her right side, she heard it. She didn't need to stop watching the adorable deer to know it was there.

With the reflexes of a lizard, she flicked out her arm and caught it: a long eared hare. Yes, it was cute, but it would make a great sandwich someday soon, she thought as she pierced its furry side with her fangs and drained it.

When she'd done, she pulled her hunter's knife from her back pocket and proceeded to gutting and skinning it, the way she'd read about in her book.

She peeled back the fur and tossed it, and then made a little slit in its abdomen, careful not to cut any major organs. Then she scooped out all its innards and tossed it for other animals to consume, leaving her with a pink carcass.

Back at the house, all the kids had risen and were eating breakfast around the table and talking about going on a road trip.

Starr walked over to the sink and rinsed the rabbit. Then she grabbed a large knife and hacked it into four parts, wrapped it in aluminum foil and stowed it in the freezer.

"Why do you keep saving your kills? That's disgusting!" Mica exclaimed, as she reached up for a coffee cup.

"Mica, the world is different. What are we gonna do when the grocery stores are depleted? The kids need to eat."

Mica was the most squeamish vampire she'd ever met. During the apocalypse, getting her to behead vamps was nearly impossible.

"Hi, Starr," said Kay from across the table. "Want to take us into town?"

"No!" she said, as she turned around.

Last time Starr took them into town, they went crazy! They Laughed, yelled, and ran all over the place without minding her. At one point, several of them wandered off without even telling her. They could have been killed!

"We need stuff," she retorted.

"Like what?"

"Shampoo, conditioner and soap."

"I need new socks," added Lucas. "Mine all have holes in them. Also, I'd really like to get some rubber boots, so that I can walk the lake while I fish."

"Okay, well, write down what you need and give it to me."

"Oh, come on, Starr. We haven't been out in ages. It'd be nice to have a trip, before it gets too cold to go outside. Besides, our supplies need re stocking before winter gets here, and you'll need help loading the van, won't you?"

She had a good point.

Starr sighed.

"Alright, I'll take you all, if you can talk Marla, Mica and Shane into going. I'm not gonna be responsible for all of you. You were a nightmare, last time."

"I'm up to it," said Mica.

"Me, too," said Shane, who had just walked in.

That afternoon, all eleven of them got into the long van Starr got from the local lodge. It was a yacht sized vehicle they could easily load up with supplies.

Hopefully, they could get enough so they wouldn't need to make any more trips into town until spring, when the snow would begin to melt.

Hopetown was the closest place for supplies, but they'd long since cleaned out its little pharmacy, mom and pop grocer and gas station. The next closest town was a hidden dust land higher up in the mountains.

Two hours passed before they finally wound up a long, cloudy dirt road, and into a town called Rockford. Although tiny, there was a large supermarket, Walgreens, Target and a library on a single strip that wasn't more than three miles long.

These little hidden places were the best because they had the most untouched or frozen goods, due to having smaller populations.

First they parked in front of the supermarket. Starr, who had the ability to see happenings in other places – a sort of telepathy, used her mind to probe inside the store. Upon finding the place to be completely empty, she gave them the okay to ransack the aisles.

Just like before, they went crazy, running up and down the aisles and all around the store, hoping to get the best goods before someone else did, and shouting, "First dibs!"

Danny and Mot got into a wrestle over who got the last bags of cheese puffs. Lucas snuck up and hid them in his shirt and pants. He took off up the aisle.

When they realized what he did, they ran after him and pinned him to the floor, punching him in the gut and popping the bags of cheese puffs.

Misaki fought with Misty over bags of cookies while Kay was in the aisle over, shoving Snickers bars into her pockets.

"Guys, stop!" shouted Starr. "We need to load up and get out of here! You," she pointed at Danny, Mot and Lucas, "to the back, now! Look for any frozen meat, or anything that might be good. We don't have time to pick favorites. Just grab whatever you can and put it, neatly and organized, into the van. Move, fast!"

Mot and Danny helped Lucas up, who kicked his legs as he walked, shaking out loose cheese puffs.

Becky and Misty ignored Starr's request and took to the makeup aisle, but she didn't care as long as they weren't acting like mongrels. Misaki and Kay helped Starr, Marla, and Mica gather the last cans of food.

After a few hours, they'd cleaned out the rest of the drinks, snacks, magazines, first aid, cleaning supplies and medicine aisles. In the back, the boys found a few dozen pounds of still frozen meat and ice cream.

By the time they'd finished cleaning out the grocer, there was barely room for them all in the van. In Target, Starr sat at the camping section, reading about how to tie luggage to the car as the kids pulled the last bits of clothing and toiletry from the shelves.

Just when Starr was ready to go home, Lucas said, "Let's check out the library."

The library wasn't hard to find, either. At the end of the strip, it was a brick building that looked like a church.

Inside, they found books, discs, and movies. Danny wandered over to the computer and exclaimed, "Wow, the internet still works!"

They gathered around and took turns checking their emails while Starr watched the van through the glass door.

A few moments later, Misaki walked up behind her and said, "My aunt, Bi, has come from China. She wants to see me."

They made it back to Lake George just after nightfall.

"What?" asked Becky, setting her fork down. "You want to go to the city?"

"How did your aunt manage a trip, given the state of the world?" asked Shane. "All the airports on the East Coast have been shut down for months."

"Maybe she got here before the vampires attacked."

"Then why didn't she contact you before?"

"I don't know," Misaki said thoughtfully, looking down at her plate. "Would you take me?" she looked Starr.

"Don't!" said Shane, looking at Starr, too. "It's way too dangerous."

"I agree," said Starr. "You don't understand. The military is there, and they don't want any of us, vampires, to survive. We were supposed to be helping each other, and they blew up our hotel instead. We almost didn't make it out in time."

"Fine, but I'm going. I have to."

"Why?" asked Misty hotly, her face a shade of puce.

"Because she saved my life. Back in China, I would've starved to death, if not for her. I was an illegitimate half Chinese-half Japanese child in a tiny farm town. She took me in when I was sick from the chicken pox, and we didn't get vaccinations like you guys did when you were babies."

"Can't you just call her?" asked Mot.

"She didn't send a number."

"So email her. We'll go back to town tomorrow," said Starr.

"Look, I want to go. It's just different for me than it is for you. Yes, you've all lost your family, too, but you haven't lost your culture. You haven't lost your home, not really anyway. Mot you know what I mean?"

"Actually, I agree with them. You should stay here," he said strongly.

"We're finally all here, safe, even Starr. Now you're gonna go out and risk your life? I don't like it!" said Misty, and she got up from the table and left.

She sighed and said, "I have to go. She's the closest thing I ever had to a mother."
Old Stomping Grounds
Chapter 3

The next morning, Starr and Misaki packed small bags and took off in the little Mercedes. She would have let her go alone, if not for the others who urged her. There were plenty of leftover ATVs around Lake George, and, the way she saw it, Misaki was old enough to make her own decisions. If she wanted to risk her neck, then so be it.

It occurred to Starr that a visit to the city might be a good thing though. Maybe she could find a quicker, easier way to translate the grimoire? What better place to try than the New York Metropolitan Library?

Transcribing was such a laborious process. Sometimes it would take her up to thirty minutes just to figure a single sentence.

During the first hour of the trip, Starr said nothing to Misaki. Instead, she replayed the conversation she'd had with Shane, before she went to bed. She warned her that Misaki was definitely hiding things, and that to go to the city might be trouble.

Finally, Starr asked, "Is your aunt in some sort of trouble? And don't lie to me. I'll know if you do."

She remained silent, for a moment, but then said, "I don't know."

Not a single car passed them on the motorway; it was just as dead as last time, except someone had pushed all the cars, from the middle of the road, off to the side.

They didn't reach the city until about three p.m.

As they rode down Broadway, Starr looked into as many buildings as she could.

"Is anybody here?"

"Not that I can tell. Every place seems to be empty."

They parked a few blocks down from the China Town neighborhood; right around 57th.

"Do you know where we're going?" asked Starr.

"No, not exactly."

At first, she followed Misaki down the empty block, and then they turned onto a street with many signs written in Chinese. It was dead silent: not a vamp or human anywhere.

After a few blocks on which they found nothing, Starr paused in front of a narrow alley.

At the far end was a nondescript black door in a red brick building.

"What is it, Starr?"

"There are many people in that building, there. I'm trying to see if we should check it out."

But just as she finished her sentence, the door opened and a man in a black cap waved to them.

"Xue!" she exclaimed.

Misaki ran to him as he stood back and held the door open.

"No," the man said, eyeing Starr. "She can't come in. No strangers here."

"She's not a stranger; she's my friend."

When the man insisted, Starr said, "It's alright. Go ahead. I'll wait."

Starr watched them disappear through the door. She slid her back down the brick wall and sighed.

~~~

The moon was shining; night had fallen. For hours, Starr kept herself busy by wandering in and out of stores, gathering useful supplies. After stopping by a butcher for a raw blood casing, she walked back to the little alley.

She banged on the door.

When after fifteen minutes, no one appeared, she banged again.

Just as she was about to break down the door, it finally opened. A little woman in a white tunic appeared.

"Misaki's staying. You go home, now."

"Uh, Lady, I'm not going anywhere unless Misaki tells me to."

"One moment," she closed the door.

A minute later, the man named Xue appeared, yelling at her in Chinese.

Starr lost her patience.

She yanked the man through the door, making him stumble into the opposite wall, smashing his head into the bricks and falling to the ground. Quickly, she caught the door before it closed.

Inside was dim, but not for her dead eyes. It was the waiting room of what looked like a warehouse.

Down a hall to her left, a light shone. She went toward it, and turned right into another hallway.

Above her head, there were a dozen offices. People were using them as living quarters.

She smelled spicy food cooking and cigarette smoke. At the end of the hall, she made another right and found herself in the center of a large production room that'd been turned into a dining area and bar.

From above, bright fluorescent lights glared down. To her right, three men sat on stools drinking and smoking as they watched a movie on a raised television.

To her left, three women were tossing vegetables and noodles on an enormous greased butane stove and grill. A mound of freshly killed, unplucked chickens lay on a counter, next to them.

Right behind the women, a garage door, large enough to drive a semi through, opened onto a concrete patio where a bunch of people sat and talked around various tables.

The men on the stool stood up and made to grab her, but she walked, fast, onto the patio.

"Misaki!" she said angrily.

"Starr!"

From behind her came the clocking of a shot gun.

Starr froze on the spot. Guns couldn't kill her, but they slowed her down; that and they hurt like hell.

"NO!" shouted Misaki.

She remained silent and still as they exchange words in Chinese. Something about her needing to leave or they'd kill her.

Starr didn't speak the language, but vampires could sometimes sense what speakers, of other languages, were saying.

"Please don't hurt them?" asked Misaki.

"Well, what do you want me to do? He's got a gun to my back?" Starr shouted. "Tell him if he doesn't move it, now, I'm gonna shove it up his ass!"

"Look, just give me a day, okay? Come back tomorrow and we'll go home. I just want to spend some time with my family."

A low growl issued from her stomach, uncontrollably. Judging by the screams of the ladies, Starr's inner demon had come out; something that happened when vampires got extremely angry. Their fangs would extend and their eyes would change.

"They aren't your family, Misaki!"

From behind, one of the men said, "Shoot her," in Chinese.

"No," shouted Misaki. "Let me talk to her."

They agreed.

"Just let me have some time. I need this! Please?"

"FINE!" she said a little more loudly than she meant to. The power behind her irritated voice made the lights and windows vibrate, scaring the men and women once more.

Ignoring their panicked chatter, she said, "I will be back for you tomorrow morning! When I return, if you're not ready to leave, I'll drag you out."

Misaki's face was distorted and her eyes were glassed over. She looked surprised that Starr could be so angry.

But the fact is Starr was livid. How could she stay with people who treated her so badly? And who wouldn't think twice to kill her? Culture or no, she and Misaki were supposed to be tight. Her behavior was a betrayal to their friendship.

Slowly, Starr raised her hands, as if to communicate that she wasn't dangerous. Then she whipped around, grabbed the man's gun by the barrel, and pushed the butt into his face, knocking him out.

Misaki screamed.

His two buddies were about to strike, but they were too slow for Starr. She pulled back both arms, closed her hands into fists, and re extended them, simultaneously, breaking their noses.

The ladies screamed and shouted at her back.

Ignoring them, she walked over to the pile of dead hens and picked the two fattest ones and walked out.

Ferociously, Starr drained the chickens of blood as she pounded the pavement back to the little Mercedes and got her overnight bag.

For a moment, she contemplated leaving Misaki behind, but then she imagined the looks on the kids' faces. They would never forgive her.

So, instead, she decided to go to the New York Metropolitan Library. She could spend the night in translation, get Misaki in the morning and go.

A Mercedes driving across the dead city at night might attract unseen attention, she thought. People became braver after dark, so she ditched the car in an alley, a few blocks up, and obscured it from sight by moving a dumpster in front of it.

As she walked the mile or so across town, she was astonished. Never, not even after the vampires attacked, had Starr seen the city so lifeless. There wasn't a single living person anywhere, and all the dead bodies were gone.

The army did a good job of cleaning up the streets.

From a few blocks away, she saw strange green blockades in front of the library. As she got closer, she realized they were at every entrance.

Judging by the greenish brown color, it was easy to assume that it was the work of the army, too.

When she got to the library, she secured her bag over her neck and shoulder, and then proceeded to climb the wall.

On the gravel roof, there was a door. She turned the knob with just enough pressure to break the lock.

Inside, there was dim light coming from the LEDs in the floor. A strong aroma, like that of an antique shop, overwhelmed her senses.

To both sides of the room were a number of items: books, portraits, furniture, vases and other antiques.

She walked across the room and found herself in a short hallway. At the end, to her right, was a door to a stairwell.

Unsure of where to start, she went down to the first floor and looked about for maps.

Behind the large checkout counter, near the entrance of the library, she found a laminated employees map that detailed storage rooms on the upper floors, offices in the middle, and show rooms and the actual library on the lower floors.

Finding there was an employee snack room in the middle, she went back up the stairs.

In the snack room, there was a sink to her right, and two vending machines to her left.

She set her bag on the brown table in the middle of the dim room and pulled out her little butane grill, pan and hunting knife.

After gently breaking a soda out of one of the machines, she proceeded to gutting and plucking her chickens over the sink. When they were clean, she set up her little butane grill, heated some olive oil she'd brought, and threw chunks of the meat into the pan.

When she'd finished her meal, she grabbed another soda from the broken machine and headed down to the first floor again.

First, she decided to check the library's intranet. Surely it would have information on how to quickly transcribe? Maybe even have a special software to do it for her?

But the power was out.

She searched, frantically, for light switches; then she got an idea.

At the checkout desk, there was the scent of at least a hundred different people, but there was one that was most consistent.

A library clerk?

She followed the scent to every spot in the building. Lucky guess, she thought, as she found herself at a small wall switch board behind the staff hall.

Moments later, she was querying Latin translations. Fortunately, there were dozens of books that could speed up her work, but she didn't find any software.

Then it occurred to her that some computers might only have a certain amount of access. Surely, the visitor's computers wouldn't have special translation software.

She ran back to the checkout desk, but when she searched its computer, she found nothing. Pulling the little employees map towards her, she noticed there was an office on the upper floor that was right past the room with the antiques.

She ran back up the stairs, exited the stairwell and ran past the antiques to the opposite end of the hall.

There, she found an office with a large copy machine and several computers.

Whoever worked there was responsible for restorations, for the smell of chemicals and glues heavily saturated the air. On the bookcases that covered the walls of the room lay translation books and rows of cans and jars; all containing various chemicals. In one corner of the room lay boxes of tissues, gloves and cotton swabs and balls.

Starr sighed with relief as she sat at the biggest computer in the room. Within moments, she'd found what she was looking for.

Immediately, she started scanning pages of the grimoire into the computer.

But the software wasn't precise, and neither were her scans. The pages of the small book got distorted, as she tried to flatten it as much as possible against the glass. As a result, she wound up scanning passages, repeatedly.

She wasted many minutes trying to cipher dozens of especially old and faded pages that the scanner couldn't read.

It wasn't until nearly dawn that Starr managed to get the last bits of the book transcribed and printed into a neatly stapled stack of paper.

She sat down in the employee snack room and read until the sun came up. On the tenth page, there was a personal note addressed to someone, but the name had been blacked out by marker.

Page 10

To XXXXXXXX

'The content of this grimoire is for viewing only. To practice any of these teachings is to risk not only one's life, but one's soul. Take caution when dealing with nekros, for they are treacherous. Beware that every deal comes with a costly price.

Page 11

This book is the property of Lyssa.

For Loray: My faith will keep us alive.

To Sargatanus: My sun will always rise in the ninth house.

Page 12

The Pact - Entry

Just like a catholic and a patron saint, the necromancer has a patron spirit. Similar to the Chinese and their shens, the spirits can be a guide, but can also be an emblem of brutal vengeance. More often than not, these are the truest "evil" and, as I've learned on my journey, there is a flipside to all that is light. What most consider evil can be wielded in almost the same way as what most consider good. There are many teachings of the power of light, but there is a power of dark, and its "evil" may be subjugated. The path of the left is but another way of life; it does not ruin, change or kill spirit. It is karma that comes, eventually.

Evil is not evil; it's just another way.

The pact, like any other, can lead to bad, good, enemies, death, even. Imperatively, no matter with whom a deal be made, a person must not use the spirit advantageously, if they don't wish to risk their mortal life. In most cases, I'd agree, but this is not for the weak; this is for the determined. There is ultimate power in supreme purity, and there is ultimate strength in the bits of our souls: here, now, and after.

Page 13

Notes and Such

Lucifer made his most cherished his lieutenants, Belzebuth and Astaroth. Lucifuge, his protégé, is always most devious, but he is still a youth; Satanachia and his army rule the underworld. The Xtians call it hell, but I'm not so sure that it is hell for them. I'm also not sure that they're any more or less powerful than the spirits of what they consider light.

All I know is they should not be challenged, for they have the adoration of the entire underworld; a whole other race of spirits with their own ideology.

At the king's request, many have been dragged to 'hell' and live there forever: some happy and some not. I have glimpsed this world, and most humans do not belong there; only the strongest could survive with their sanity intact.

From here on there are a dozen other spirits, but for the intents and purposes of my journey, this grimoire is dedicated to my patron spirit, Loray; the daughter of the demon of the ninth house, born in the winter month, Sargatanas; some will know him by the name, Saggitarius, for he is the archer in the sky. He is the revealer of hell.

Loray patron of war, with 30 legions of spirits; she will bring me fortune and luck. She will save my father's kingdom. I will make this pact tonight at the witching hour.'

From then on, it was nothing but spells and rituals with various notes in the mix. At the end, a long array of journal entries of the rise to power for a young empress, but Starr didn't have time to finish. Day had broken, and she needed to get Misaki and go.

She decided to take a break and went for a quick nap in the break room. Then she made coffee, packed up her items and made her way back to the little Mercedes.

Jumping over the dumpsters, she landed at the rear of the car. She opened the trunk and stowed her items, and then leapt back over the trash cans and walked to the end of the block before stopping.

Should I bring my sickles? she asked herself.

Instinctively, she thought it would be a good idea. She ran and got her ruby studded sliver moon shaped sickles and stowed them, carefully, in the leather hooks she'd sewn into her jacket months ago.

Once back at the alley, she stood for a moment and looked inside, using her mind.

Strangely, she didn't see anyone, so she tried to sense any presence at all.

It was like the place was empty; she started to panic.

She kicked in the door.

When no one came running to confront her, beads of blood-sweat broke out on her forehead.

Setting her coffee on the ground, she reached for her ruby sickles.

As quickly and quietly as she could, she walked to the back of the premise where the dining and patio area were, but it was empty. In fact, she sniffed the air and it was like no one had been there for hours.

She scanned the offices and the upper floors of the building. She walked over to the garage door and threw it up, breaking the padlock.

Not quite believing what she was seeing, she ran through the rest of the warehouse, but the building was completely deserted.
Chapter 4

After hours of upturning the place, she didn't find a single clue that pointed to the direction of Misaki and her people. She tried to pick up just her scent, but there were too many, and it got lost in the jumble.

Whatever the case, they must have been planning to evacuate for a while. There was no food and hardly any things left behind, like blankets or toiletry.

What confused her even more was there was no evidence of their departure. Normally, Starr could track a scent, easily, but there were no scents: not at the door, and not anywhere on the patio. It was like they up and vanished.

She sat outside on the sidewalk for hours, waiting for Shane to arrive. Starr was a resourceful person, and wasn't one to hesitate to take care of business, alone, but she hadn't a clue where to even begin. She needed someone powerful to help find the way; that someone was Shane.

About one 'o' clock, she pulled up in a little red Honda.

She parked on the curb, and said "Hey" as she shut the door. "Is this it?" she asked, and walked straight toward the door.

That was one thing Starr always admired about Shane: she took little time in figuring things out, and acted quickly.

Starr followed her into the building.

She walked around quietly, looking here and there. Starr just watched and waited for her to speak.

Finally, she turned and said, "I'm sorry, Starr, but I'm not getting anything."

"That just doesn't make any sense. How did they leave without any traces?"

"Are you sure they're human?"

"Yes."

"So what do we do?"

Starr thought for a moment, and then said, "We comb the neighborhood."

They exited the alley and made a right. Past shops and restaurants, they walked silently. Starr could tell Shane was concentrating on the buildings, trying to hear or feel people, so Starr continued to use her senses and foresight, too.

Hours went by and they found nothing.

Early that evening, they decided to take a break and went for dinner at the butchers. Finding the kitchen empty of blood, they went to Central Park and hunted squirrels.

"I can't believe I just let Misaki get kidnapped like that," said Starr, as she leapt up onto a branch. She stuck her hands in the tree hole and grabbed the fatty by the neck, breaking it and tossing it down to Shane.

"If there's anything I know about you, it's that you don't 'let' anybody do anything. Honestly, it's like I said, she was hiding something."

"What if she gets hurt though?" she asked as she reached up and grabbed a female by its tail.

The squirrel swung backward off the branch and sunk its teeth into her arm.

"She made her choice when she kept secrets, and when she picked them over you."

Starr pressed her thumb and forefinger into the animal's jaw, forcing it to release her, and then sunk her teeth into its side.

She jumped down to the ground and tossed the squirrel over her shoulder.

"I know you're trying to learn to block out thoughts and images, but do you have any clues as to what she may have been hiding?"

"She seemed conflicted between feelings of loyalty and nostalgia, and hatred and loathing. If I had to guess, I'd say some bad things went down, but she misses her culture. There are things we don't understand, and that's just that."

"If we can find her, then maybe we can do things to make her feel more at home," she said as she sniffed the air, and turned around to see a large rat attempting to climb a tree.

Shane flew to the tree and stomped it dead, then picked it up and drained it.

"Wow, I didn't know you could levitate."

"Yeah, my powers are growing. Fortunately, so is my control over them. I swear, for a while there, I considered ending it all," she said as she wiped a bit of blood off her lips.

"Well, thanks for coming, either way. I know this was asking a lot, especially for someone who struggles with their powers as much as you do."

"I didn't have a choice. Besides, once the kids heard she'd disappeared, they insisted."

They walked to the pond and stood in silence for a while, under the moon and stars.

"So did you get any work done on the grimoire?"

"Yeah, but I haven't had time to read it much. After I discovered Misaki was gone, all I could think about was trying to find her. Maybe you could look over it for me, later. To tell the truth, I don't understand why Lucenzo thinks it's important. It's just some boring person's diary."

"Yeah, absolutely, I'll look at it," she said as she pulled a paper out of her pocket. "While I'm here, I have a list of things to get for the kids, Mica and Marla. First, I think we need to get you a cell phone though."

Hers burned down in the fire.

"I hate talking on the phone. You know that."

"The others can't communicate telepathically. What if they need to get in touch with you?"

When she said nothing, Shane continued, "And did you ever think that maybe that's why Lucenzo's always trying to send you messages? Or that Misaki could have tried to contact you?"

They walked the street looking for someplace to sleep when they almost past a building with a sign that said Woo Day Inn.

"Hey," said Starr. "That's the place Misaki said her aunt was staying at."

They combed the Inn but found it completely deserted, so they called it an evening.

The next morning they ransacked the kitchen and found dozens of bags of frozen chicken, vegetables and sauce.

"This would be great for the house," said Shane, who immediately began to scoop up the bags.

"Are you sure we're doing the right thing?"

"Starr, we can't stay here forever. It's not safe. Misaki knew what she was getting into."

"I just hope the others don't hate us."

After they'd loaded up the Honda with the frozen foods, they went to the little underground flea market and loaded up on socks and underwear, extra coats and blankets for the house.

As they made their way back to the car, Shane froze.

"What is it?"

"Someone's at the car. They've broken in and stolen the food."

They ran to the car and found that the windows were busted and the engine had been tampered with.

"I got a scent; let's go," said Starr.

Shane stowed the items in the car and hid them the best she could.

Then they followed the scent back through the black door and into the building where she last saw Misaki.

It led them to a large manhole at the back of the warehouse.

"So that's why I didn't pick up a scent outside. They've been traveling underground," said Starr astounded.
Underworld
Chapter 5

Down in the sewers, Starr picked up the scent of many people, but Misaki's was still lost. This worried Starr because it wasn't possible that she could have entered the sewer without touching anything, without her essence permanently affecting the air molecules.

"She could have been carried out, like in a bag or something," said Shane.

"Thought you weren't doing that anymore?"

"I never said that I'm closing my mind permanently, but just that I'm learning to control it. At the moment, I'm keeping my mind open for any signs of Misaki, or her people."

"I wonder why people moved down here. Do you think they knew the government was gonna burn down the city in an attempt to get rid of all the vampires?"

"That'd be my guess," Shane replied. "It's just common sense that the government would take aim at the major cities. Down here, they'd survive, whether they used nukes or not."

They walked a half mile through the dark concrete tunnels. Occasionally, they'd hear the squeak of rats, or feel the crunch of bones under their feet. Sometimes water dripped down from the ceiling, and water would rush through the walls.

At the end of the tunnel was a large stairwell, down which Starr sensed the presence of hundreds of people.

She leant over the bar and gasped as she looked down. The steps circled down at least a dozen times before disappearing into total darkness.

"Don't be surprised. These sewers were originally made to handle all the city's water needs. Back then, it was a matter space rather than technology."

"How far down do you think it goes?"

"Well, from what I learned in school, a basement of a building, or the sewer, is about 10% of the actual building. So if you have a 100 story building, you're looking at ten underground stories of sewer, possibly. I'm from Deleware, originally, and apparently these sewers leak over 40 million gallons of water each year. Several years ago, there was a project to send the leakage to the Delaware aqueduct. Apparently, the guys hired for the project live in helium tanks that are about 70 stories underground."

Starr couldn't stop her mouth from slackening. If Shane were right, the sewers of New York could potentially house thousands of people.

"That means Misaki could be anywhere. We may never find her."

Quickly, they walked down a few hundred steps, passing a dozen flights and finding themselves in total darkness, except for a tiny speck of light that shined out.

Fifteen minutes later, they reached the floor from where the light emanated. They stepped onto a long stretch of concrete. At the end, a single light bulb blared from the ceiling. On the right side there was an archway.

They walked through and, from their left, heard murmuring.

The murmuring got louder and then turned into voices.

After a few more minutes of walking, they saw much movement in the distance.

When the hall opened into a large underground railroad, Starr gasped.

For a mile down, there were stands and cemented coves, just like in the rail station above ground.

In the coves, people worked, selling and trading goods. Some were living in rooms to the backs of the coves while others set up stands in between each one.

There were hundreds of people down there, milling about like in a shopping center. Two men were bartering packages of batteries for food. Further down, two children were trying to trade pencils for candy. Down from there, a lady gave a man $5 for a large frozen steak.

It was like a large flea market.

They made their way through the crowd; past books and televisions, and food stands. It was a hodgepodge of a redirected city.

Every other person was using cash to purchase things.

"Currency is still valid," said Shane. "That's a good sign. It means the civilized world is still intact, even if it's not here. They're getting these goods from somewhere, and they have to be able to trade the money for something somewhere else. I think that, when we get back, if everyone still wants to move on, it will be easier than we think."

At the end of the little shopping area, they found another extended stairwell.

"Can you see anything down there?" asked Shane.

"People; families in various sections of the sewer."

Starr turned at the sound of footsteps from behind her. An old man with shifty eyes approached.

"Excuse me," said Starr. "We're looking for girl name Misaki. She would have been new. Have you seen any new faces, here?"

The man said, "Get off," and walked down the steps.

"Give me a second," said Starr.

She clung to the rail, with both hands, and closed her eyes so she could focus better on the lower floors.

In one cemented corner, several floors down, a mother roasted sausages on a butane grill while her husband played with their two children; in another, a man sat in a green lawn chair, reading a magazine. He had a floor fire he contained with large white rocks. Dangling above the fire was a pot of steaming coffee.

The man threw the magazine on the ground, walked just outside of his space and shouted down the hall, "Shut up, you Brats!"

Starr followed the direction the man shouted at, and found a half dozen kids playing basketball.

"The kids are playing basketball?" Shane asked, reading her mind as usual.

"Yeah, and I don't see Misaki. This is gonna take a while because this place is just too big. I think we should find somewhere to settle down, so that we can search, telepathically, without being disturbed."

"Why don't we ask the kids? It might be quicker."

A minute later, they approached the kids' right as the tallest one unfairly wrestled the basketball from a smaller kid's arms.

"Hey, stop it!" said a boy with blond curls, who must have been about seven years old. He kicked the kid in the butt, and then jumped on his back and choked him.

"Hey, do you guys know a girl named Misaki?" asked Shane.

But the kids were too busy ganging up on the tall one.

"Stop IT!" yelled Starr, her inner demon coming out in the sound of her voice.

They froze in motion; the blond kid slid down from the tall one's back.

"Have you seen a girl named Misaki?" asked Shane again.

"No, haha. What kind of a name is that?" asked the smaller boy, who had the basketball again. His shirt was ripped and his nose was bleeding.

"It's Asian. She's a little bit older than you; about thirteen years old."

"The Asians are on the other side; in another underground," he said as he wiped his nose on his shirt.

"Underground?" asked Starr.

"Neighborhood."

"Can you show us the way?" asked Shane.

He pinched his nose, tilted his head back and said, "No. B'y 'bom' will kill me. Besides, many of them aren't friendly,"

"I'll take you," said a particularly grubby looking kid with a dirty shirt and ripped up shoes. "But what'll you give me for it?"

"I don't have any money," Starr whispered to Shane.

She had nearly half a million dollars stashed in a bank. Her boyfriend, Antony, stole it before vamping out, and forcing her to kill him, but she'd lost her money card in Ukraine, when the plane she was in was shot down by vampires.

The banks had been shut down since the world had gone to hell.

"I don't have any money, either," said Shane.

"Okay, here's what I'll give you for it," said Starr who's forehead was starting to get hot. "I won't break your leg. You got two seconds to decide."

"Starr!"

But Starr wasn't in the mood to play games. She looked into the kids eyes and said, "Take us, NOW!"

"Okay," he said with a slackened sound.

"Did you hypnotize him? How did you do that?" asked Shane.

"Nevermind."

The kid walked sleepily into the hall and turned left.

"What's your name?" asked Shane.

"Brad."

The kid led them through a random array of tunnels and halls, and then down a couple more flights of stairs.

When they got to the underground neighborhood, Starr said, "These are Koreans. We're looking for Chinese."

"That way," Brad said in a clear voice, indicating he'd finally come out of his trance.

He, then, turned to leave.

"Oh, no," said Starr who grabbed the kid by the back of his shirt's neck, causing him to bounce back into her like a pong ball to a paddle. "You're coming with us."

Shane gave Starr the dirtiest look.

"Fine," said the boy angrily. "Now, let go of my shirt!"

The people in that underground were considerably nicer than the boys implied, thought Starr, as she smiled and inclined her head back to them.

But after hours of walking about, they didn't find any signs of Misaki. When they asked people, no one had any answers.

They didn't realize it, because they were underground, but it was early evening.

"Listen, I gotta go or else all the food will be taken."

"Alright, we'll take you back," said Shane.

"No, Shane, we gotta look for Misaki. He can go on his own."

"Actually, no he can't. Someone's after him: a man."

"I can handle it," he said.

"He can handle it. Let him go."

Shane said nothing but watched him as he ran off.

Shane gave Starr another look.

"We don't have time for other people's problems."

For hours, they wandered in and out of the lamp lit concrete community. The night life was just as prevalent underground as it was before the attempted apocalypse. All the workers had shut down, packed up their things and were with their families, or out looking for fun.

In place of many supplies stands were drinking stands. Men and women lined the halls with alcohol in their hands; music played and they smoked and danced, while others became belligerent and fought.

The underground even had its own neighborhood police. They wandered the halls with open attentive eyes, and stepped in where needed.

At two a.m., they found an uninhabited corner of the underground where they decided to rest.

"No use continuing," said Starr. "Everyone's either gone to their resting places, or they're drunk."

But Shane who was still angry said, "We should have never let that kid go. He could have helped us. Also, I think he's being abused."

"Maybe you're right. We'll get him back, tomorrow."

For a long time, they sat on the cold ground staring at the walls without saying anything. Starr didn't notice herself drifting off to sleep. She just suddenly found herself flying through cold blue-gray sky.
Valholl
Chapter 6

She was glad to finally be going home. Now that her business was over, she could focus on the next phase of her plan.

Through the icy sky, she flew under the burning glare of the sun. After all these years, it still hurt her to fly that part of the atmosphere, but it no longer burned her skin. As their kind got older, their flesh hardened beyond the hardest elements, making them nearly indestructible.

But their eyes were always the weakest point of their body. That never changed, in all the millenniums.

She pulled out her black sunglasses; the sky was so gray that it hurt her eyes.

In ancient times, back when Greece was the world power, they killed off the Primordials with a stake through an eye. It was same for them as it is for modern vampires, in that the brain's cortex needed to be destroyed in order to kill them.

As Starr flew up the icy peak, her right brain tried to tell her that it wasn't she who flew, but it felt so real.

She tried to command herself to turn back. Misaki was in danger, but she couldn't: the body ignored her.

That's because the body wasn't hers, her subconscious told her.

The gray stone castle was large enough to house multiple cities. Unlike the castles of Transylvania, these had never been touched after all these millenniums, except the castle doors that had been removed ages ago.

Anyone who had business there didn't need doors.

She flew over the walls and landed on the icy grass. It was amazing how it managed to stay evergreen, even in that chilly atmosphere.

Starr walked over the little bridge of an enormous coit pond. The five pound fishes leapt through the air, catching slices of apple the gardener tossed into the air. The sun gleamed off their razor sharp teeth.

Quickly, she walked through the tight stone alleys. She didn't want to meet anyone.

Her quarters were on the other end.

She was only a few feet away; she grabbed the chain from around her neck and stuck its skeleton into the black keyhole.

As she closed the heavy wooden door, she sighed.

Down her blouse was another chain, long and silver. She pulled it up and wiggled her finger into the strung up neck. Starr wrestled out a little map and a red jewel the size of a large round grape.

Light emanated from its center. She closed her palm over it and felt a power surge.

Quickly, she walked across the cold stone floor to her father's cabinet, where she stored all her old world valuables. Like every other piece of furniture in the room, it was millenniums old, and the wood had long since petrified.

On that peak, the oxygen was thin, and microbes were sparse. Everything, and even the castle, was excellently preserved. It was for that reason the Priomordials chose it, for no human would make it that far and live.

She found an old chain with a polished tiger's eye pendant. It used to be her favorite good luck charm, back in the sixth century B.C., when she was warrior queen.

Starr pushed out the tiger's eye and fashioned the talisman in its place.

She wrapped the chain around her neck and buried the jewel down her shirt.

The power behind the talisman made her skin tingle. She closed her eyes and breathed in.

Just lifting her hand to shut the cabinet door felt different.

She crossed the room, plain as a nunnery, walking over her ancient Persian rug and sat down at her large walnut desk, which was also petrified. From the bottom cabinet, she pulled a large black book. Settling it on the desk, she reached for her quill and ink pot.

Thoughtfully, she scribbled away for a few minutes, and then a thought occurred to her:

She didn't need the old witch. What if she just used Lucenzo?

What if she made him an offer that he couldn't refuse?

Quickly, she stood up and went for the door. She nearly ran through the alley, past the center square and up to the cobbled castle.

At the fork, she turned right and slipped into the dungeons.

She didn't stop until the gold colored bars were in her grasp.

Lucenzo was lounging on his back, on a large white furry pouf, staring at the ceiling. His red waist length hair splayed over the side. Unlike modern vampires, the Primordials didn't bother with cutting their locks every day; to them, their hair was a source of pride.

"You're back," he said.

"Yes."

"You look different," he said, sitting up. Then his blue eyes widened. "You've found the talisman! Where was it?"

"In a crevice up in the Himalayans. The old witch didn't think I'd find it, but she's dead now."

"I can feel your power, as I sit here."

They said nothing for a moment.

"So now what?" he asked.

She said nothing.

"Well, have you been to the seer?"

"No. I came back to work on something when it occurred to me that I don't need her," she looked him in the eyes, hoping he understood her.

He merely blinked.

"And, Starr?"

"She's fine."

"What are you gonna do with her when she finds out."

"By that time, it will be over. It's the only way this will work. I need you to get her for me. I've tried every other way, and there is none that will work. In exchange, I will give you a place in my hierarchy."
Talisman
Chapter 7

Her eyes flipped open. She sat up and inhaled, deeply. The talisman's power; she felt it, too. Her skin tingled and a surge of power exhilarated her.

It was only because they shared blood that she had this connection.

But what is a talisman? She asked herself.

"Shane," she called.

"Yeah?"

"What time is it?"

"Five a.m."

Her brain rushed with thoughts. She needed to go into hiding, she needed to fight, she needed to flee.

"What happened?"

"I had a dream. Credenza's got some powerful amulet. She wants Lucenzo to help her, to get me and bring me to her, but I don't know what for. I have this feeling that I should go into hiding. She's already killed a witch."

"Starr, just calm down. You've been having these visions all summer."

"Yes, but this is different. I know it!" She stood up and paced the room. "Something is going on, and I'm gonna find out. I can't keep going through these episodes!"

"What about Misaki?"

"I know where she is. The power of the talisman; it's made me stronger, too."

"How?"

"I never told you guys this because I didn't want to freak you out, but when she pulled me out of the fire, I think she used her blood to heal me. I'd re severed my neck, so I should have died. Instead, I woke in New Orleans, and I've been more powerful than ever before."

Starr stumbled backward into the wall.

"I, I can feel its influence over me. It's like my blood has come to life."

"Calm down, breathe," said Shane. "I know what it's like to be overwhelmed; it's kind of like that with telepathy because I'm always bombarded with people's thoughts. You just have to focus your mind, like when you try to close your mind from intrusion. Just focus on a blank slate."

As soon as Starr got her composure back, they walked back to the Asian underground.

People were already setting up for the day's commerce. Many stared loathingly at them. Starr stared, hard, back at them.

"Do you really know where we're going?" asked Shane.

"She's this way!"

They turned right, down a lamp lit hall with large pipes that lined the wall. On the right side, Starr knew there was a door.

Mentally, she looked in.

A couple desks were lined against the wall. There were several beds to her left and right.

"She was here," said Shane.

"Yeah, I sense her, too. She's still close by."

Shane turned around and walked back out of the hall; Starr followed.

They exited the hall and went right, past the stands and into a large stretch of hall that had been turned into a community dining room. Tables were scattered everywhere, and, at the back, people stood in a line, with trays held in their hands.

In the middle of the line, Misaki stood receiving a spoonful of noodles onto her plate.

Starr felt her skin get hot. Her mouth fell open and her eye lids quivered.

She looked at Shane who was red in the cheeks, and her lips were tightly pursed.

Misaki must have felt their anger through the air because she turned her head, and looked them dead in the eyes.

Starr was about to charge her, but Shane held her back.

"Let me go talk to her. You stay here and calm down."

Shane walked through the tables.

"Misaki, you've been here the entire time?"

Despite the noise, Starr heard every word with her vampire ears.

"Yeah, didn't my Aunt Bi tell Starr?"

"Tell her what?"

"I'm going home to my mother. Her child died, and so did her husband. Now she wants me back."

"Don't you think it would have been nice for you to tell Starr yourself?"

But Starr's blood was strengthened by the amulet. Immediately, she sensed Bi in the corner of the room, eyeing Starr and her friend. She was the lady in the white tunic, from before.

Worried that the lady may try something, Starr went to the line to urge them to hurry.

"Misaki, your mother is dead, too. She lied to you," Shane said.

Shane looked at Starr, and then inclined her head to t corner of the room where Bi sat.

"The only reason she told you that was to get you to return to China. Now that your mother and her husband are dead, she can lay claim to their money, if she can claim to be your guardian, which won't be too hard."

Shane observed the woman, a moment longer, and then said, "But she didn't think you would go willingly, if you knew the real reason. She knew that you'd rather stay here with us. That's why she's been nicer to you than before."

Shane looked at Misaki.

"She's been giving you things, hasn't she? Before, she hit you, a lot, and always screamed, didn't she?"

"Her behavior has been peculiar," Misaki conceded.

"Move it or get out of the line," said a woman behind her.

They walked to a crowded table where they sat down.

"Just let me get a bite, and we'll go," she said.

But then the man, named Xue, appeared in the room.

"That's Bi's lover," said Shane.

"They're just a couple of crooks," said Starr. "I'll never understand how you fell for it. You're supposed to be the smart one."

"I'm sorry," she said as her eyes turned red and welled up. "I wanted it to be true."

Xue approached the table and told Starr and Shane to stand up, in English.

When they didn't move, he pulled a gun out of the back of his shirt. Starr stared intently at the gun. The man yelped, and dropped it.

Shane was unaware that Starr had become pyrokinetic.

"One of your new powers, I presume?"

But Starr didn't have time to reply.

The man bent over for the gun, but Starr called it to her. It slid across the floor, under the table, and she grabbed it.

"Sit down," Starr said to the man.

When he wouldn't sit, Shane yanked him down into the seat, by his arm, and yelled at him, "Tell her the truth about her mother."

He and Misaki exchanged a few words in Chinese.

He's denying it, Shane said into Starr's mind.

I know.

"You need to decide," said Shane. "It's us or him."

She looked at them a second, and then back to Xue. Pushing back her chair, she stood up and said, "Let's go."

Xue shot up and grabbed Misaki around the waist.

Shane stood up.

"Wait," said Starr. "Sit down."

All around the room, people stood up from their seats. They ignored Misaki who struggled against Xue's grip, as he dragged her out of the room.

When they saw that Starr and Shane weren't going to interfere, the people sat back down at the tables.

Casually, they stood up and followed Xue's scent further down the hall to a kitchen.

"They're in there: Misaki, Xue and three other men," said Shane. "They've all got guns."

Guns couldn't kill them, but they hurt like hell, and slowed them down, considerably.

"I'll go in first. There isn't any other way."

"What if you vamp out?"

Dangerous situations sometimes caused them to lose consciousness, turning them into wild animals, killing uncontrollably. Last time Starr vamped out, she woke up with the severed arms of a man, in both her hands.

"Then it's up to you to get Misaki out of here. I'll meet up with you when I'm conscious again."

Before Shane could protest, Starr flung her heel at the door. It broke inward, making the men jump.

They were the same men Starr knocked out, back in the warehouse.

The men recognized her, too, and didn't hesitate as they shot at them, repeatedly. Using her mind, she stopped the bullets in midair. They dropped to the ground, as the men looked on in shock.

"You're not human!" yelled one of the men.

Shane walked in and said, "Come on."

Misaki, who laid on the ground, stood up, but Xue grabbed her again; this time he held a knife to her neck.

Faster than he could blink, Starr walked up, grabbed his arm, and yanked the knife out of it.

She didn't need to turn around to know the others were going to attack her from behind.

The man in a white cap put his arm around her neck and tried to drag her down to the ground, but he might as well have been trying to wrestle a marble statue.

Starr squeezed his arm too hard, as she pulled it off, breaking his hand and causing him to scream in pain. She turned around and saw his forearm's bone clearly sticking out of his skin.

The other man came at her with a metal bat. In a most elegant way, Starr snatched the bat, spun around on foot, and whacked him in the head with it, too hard.

Misaki squealed as his head parted from his body, and flew into the wall with a loud crunching noise and fell to the ground.

"Starr, did you have to hit him so hard?" asked Shane.

"I didn't mean, too. I swear," she said as she shrugged her shoulders.

Shane put her arms around Misaki and guided her out of the kitchen.
Time to Go
Chapter 8

As they walked out of the Asian underground, people ogled Starr, whose front was smeared with blood.

"You ever do that again, and we'll leave you."

"Starr, cut her some slack."

"She chose those maniacs over us. I'll cut her none. Look at what we had to do just to get her back."

"Look, I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

They walked in silence back to the silver Mercedes; the Honda was too messed up to start.

"Aren't you coming?" asked Shane.

"I can't."

"So you're gonna go after Credenza? Starr, you don't even know where she's at. I know you're stronger than ever before, but you're not enough to take on one of the oldest vampires in existence, not to mention a half Primordial."

"I'm not going after Credenza. I'm going to find Lucenzo. To do that, I'm going to Boston to find Kris. He's always known more than he lets on. If I'm to put a stop to this, once and for all, I'll have to start with getting information from him, even if I have to kill him."

"He's the German albino with the purple eyes?" asked Misaki.

"How did you know that?"

"Lily told us about him."

"Well, alright, you guys. Have a safe trip back."

"Wait," said Shane. She reached around to the back and dug in a brown paper bag.

"Here," she said, handing her a hard plastic package.

"A cell phone? Haha," she laughed a little. "Thanks."

Starr watched as Shane started the car and took off, up the street. In her mind, she followed them all the way to the freeway, to make sure they got through the city safely.

When she was sure they would be fine, she levitated slowly into the air, and flew north as fast as her powers would let her.

Valhöll

Vampin Book Series #11

By Jamie Ott
Copyright   2012 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without permission.

For more information: ladysonoma@americamail.com

ISBN: 978-0671564053
Boston in Repair
Chapter 1

The sky over Boston was foggy, making it hard to see the house from the air. Normally, she would've never risked exposure, but she didn't have time to waste.

She levitated just under a particularly dense cloud until she spotted the property.

Gently, she descended through the salty air and landed on the moist grass.

Using just her mind, she looked in and saw several people in the living room taking aperitifs.

She deeply inhaled; there was a familiar scent in the air.

Michael was there, too!

That was all she needed to know. If worse came to be, she knew he'd always take her side.

She breathed hard and readied herself to fight them all, if necessary. But, then, the door opened, and Mick appeared.

"Starr, we'll have none of that! You're welcome, but don't think you'll be able to flex your powers, here."

When she said nothing, he beckoned her in.

Inside was the same as usual: cool, dark and crammed with many paintings, sculptures, photographs and other priceless antiques.

She walked past the threshold and stopped dead in her tracks, at the sight of the people in the living room.

"Starr," said an old familiar, not to mention annoying, voice.

But before she could confirm what she was hearing, a pair of alabaster textured hands grabbed her, roughly, and drew her into a blinding embrace.

Just the strength of his kisses would have broken a normal person's jaw.

When he released her, she resisted the urge to wipe the slime from her face. Fernand, who was Lucenzo's brother – and a Primordial, was a kind person, even if he was exuberant to the point of irritating.

His long hair was as red as Lucenzo's, but, unlike his brother, he had a softer angel-like face.

"Come," he said as he grabbed her hand and led her into the living room. "Let me guess: a wine spritzer, again?"

But Starr was still too stunned to answer.

From outside, she saw that there were people in the house, but she didn't pay attention to who they were, exactly. If she had, she would have never come.

"Now, Starr, you remember Madam Balaji, head of the Order of Black," she inclined her head. "Bulgari," he lifted his chin in acknowledgement as he took a long drag from his cigarette. "Nico and Kris," they both rose their glasses to her.

"And this is Keagan Scamall."

Starr remained silent as Fernand went to fix her drink.

Last time they were all together, they didn't part on great terms. While Starr stayed in Madam Balaji's and Bulgari's Castel de Negru, in Romania, she discovered they liked to practice barbaric rituals and games. When Starr walked in on a human labyrinthine chase, she left her kindly hosts without a word.

And Nico and Kris: The last time Starr saw them was when Credenza killed their long-time friend, Levi, after she, herself, tried to kill him.

Everyone was much the same as Starr remembered them, though. Madam Balaji with her waist-length blonde ringlets, and in a white dress as usual; Bulgari was still chain smoking; Nico with his latte complexion, and Kris the albino, glowing ghostly white under the firelight, with his eyes a vibrant shade of purple.

The only person Starr didn't recognize was Keagan. He was a pale, stocky, dark haired man with a touch of crow's feet, and patches of long grey hair.

He died much older than most vampires.

"Actually," he said. "We met many months ago. You were with the Council Fleet. You crashed my St. Patrick's Day Feast."

Starr hated mind readers, very much.

Keagan must have noticed her discomfort, for he stood up and insisted that she come sit next to him.

Starr was hesitant, given what she'd learned about the Scamall clan.

"Just because we are at odds with the Council, doesn't mean we are bad people."

Lucenzo pushed a wine glass into her hand and said, "Please, sit down."

After a moment of silence, Madam Balaji said, "Starr, I'm glad to see that you've survived those nasty vampires that that maniac, Lucenzo, created. No offense, Fernand."

"None taken, Madam. Though nobody believes me, I had nothing to do with my brother's crazy world-apocalypse scheme."

"We believe you," said Nico. "I'm sure if you were involved, your father, Vidar, would have apprehended you, too."

"My father doesn't mess a-r-round," he said, rolling his R's, lightly.

Lucenzo and Fernand had spent many centuries under the guise of Northern Italians until WWII, when the Italians tried to force them into the army. That was when they immigrated to the United States: to Boston.

"So, Starr, will you stay for dinner?" asked Kris.

"Actually, no, I'd like to talk to you, privately, and then I have to go."

"No business before dinner," said Fernand in his usual loud and bossy voice. "And you will stay for dinner. Mick and Nina are about to butcher a kid. Michael is here, too."

He smiled widely at her. Starr couldn't help but smile back, though not sincerely.

"Ugh, alright," she agreed, hitching the corners of her mouth back. "I'm gonna go say hello to Michael."

"He's in the back."

She took a sip of her drink and stood.

Taking in a long whiff, she picked out Michael's scent and followed it to the kitchen.

Immediately, she recognized the head of housekeeping, from Madam Balaji's Castel de Negru, Nina. Over the high wooden console, she was cutting up vegetables.

Behind her, the doors to the patio were open. On which, Michael and his father, Mick, stood in front of a pair of strung up kids. Beneath them, two buckets caught the blood that slowly spouted forth, from their necks. Through ties around their mouths, they bleated. It was sad but that was the way it was done for the freshest blood.

They both wore long plastic aprons.

One of the kids, long since bled out and skinned, Michael took a hand sized rotator saw to its skull, split it open and pulled out the brain.

When he realized Starr was there, he said, "Hey, Starr."

He placed the brain in a large white plastic bowl, took off his apron, walked over and gave her a hug.

"I sensed you when you landed in the yard."

"I don't understand. You guys are fairly strong vampires. Why do you agree to be their servants? Doesn't it bother you that they hang about like royalty, and you're always here, in the kitchen?"

"No, it doesn't bother me at all," said Michael, sounding a little offended.

"Michael, she doesn't understand that it's part of our 100 years of service contract," Mick said as he flung the newly departed fur from his animal into a plastic laundry basket. He took off his apron, grabbed the two buckets of blood, and came inside. "How do you like the new kitchen?"

She turned red, but when he smirked, she felt relieved.

Starr had almost forgotten that the last time she was there, she'd destroyed it.

He went to the cupboards and pulled out a couple juice glasses, into which he poured some of the fresh blood.

"You have to understand, those vampires are old world, and they never do anything for themselves. Back then, having a servant was a sign of status," Nina added as she sipped from her glass. "But they can hardly hide their condition, so they turn people in exchange for 100 years of service."

"Considering that Nina and I were both dying of cancer when they turned us, it seemed like a pretty good deal," said Mick with a smile.

"So, what are you doing here?" asked Michael.

"I'm just here to visit," she said, not wanting to give too much away.

But Mick looked at her with his deep, penetrating brown eyes.

"How's everyone back at Lake George?" asked Michael.

"Good but cramped in the house. I was hoping we could all return to the clinic, but the city is dead. Everyone's living like roaches underground."

"Yeah, I heard. The city's gonna be dead for a while. If you want to get away from the Lake, though, I recommend coming here," said Mick.

"Yes, have you had a chance to check out the city? It's nearly fully functional now, except for damage here and there. Most schools are back in, and a couple grocery stores have reopened," said Nina, as she grabbed the bowl of hearts and started slicing.

"Well, that might be an option, then," said Starr thoughtfully. "The kids really need to get back into school."

"Starr, can you come out here for a second?" called Fernand.

"Sure."

Back in the living room, everyone looked riled, yet merry.

"Did you, or did you not, beat Parker, B., at fencing?" he asked heatedly.

Parker was an English fencer who lived in Romania.

"Uh, no. Not really. I got a few lucky shots, but that was all."

"Yes, but it's not every day that a new fledgling gives a crone, like Parker, such a run for his money."

Starr laughed politely. "But if you could have seen me the next day, when we fought, you would pity me."

For the next thirty minutes, Fernand dominated most of the conversation with grand hand gestures, jumping about the room like an acrobat.

Starr wanted, more than anything, to drag him and Kris to a corner of the room and talk to them about finding Lucenzo, but she knew it would be impossible to get Fernand's attention when he was receiving so much of his own.

Finally, Nina came in and told them that dinner was ready.

"Starr, you are my guest of honor. You will sit next to me!"

"Isn't this their house?" she asked, meaning Nico and Kris.

"No, it's mine and Lucenzo's. We bought it together after the war."

Fernand grabbed her hand and led her to her place at a well-dressed table that could have seated twenty.

Starr never felt odder than she did when Michael waited on her. He scooped a heap of raw brains onto her arugula salad, and then Nina flanked bits of meat onto her dinner plate.

They went around the table, serving the others. After, Mick refreshed their glasses with wine.

She felt much better when they took places beside them at the table, rather than in the kitchen – like back at the Castel de Negru. Mick and Nina took seats at the opposite end, and Michael took the vacant seat next to her.

Dinner was a long and sleepy affair. The food was good, but the conversation was old world. Fernand, Balaji, Nico, and Kris bantered back and forth while Bulgari said nothing, but continued to smoke in between bites.

Keagan continually watched Starr out of the corner of his eye.

Down at the other end of the table, Mick and Nina were deep in conversation, and Michael continued to talk about inane things to Starr.

She couldn't wait for dinner to be over.

After, Starr tried to escape them by helping Michael in the kitchen with dessert, but Fernand insisted she join them in the parlor.

"Oh, Starr, you look so beautiful, but plain. Why do you dress like this?" he asked, eyeing her blue jeans, black lace up boots and leather jacket. "In my day, women wore dresses."

"Because I'm here on business, Fernand, and I need to talk to you, privately."

"Not now, Darling," he kissed her hand. "Later."

He went off to talk to Nina about the dessert cart.

"I see you haven't been practicing closing your mind," said Bulagari, as he swished a brandy. "He knows what you want."

"I'm just not good at the mind stuff. Besides, I've nothing to hide."

Keagan sidled over to them and said, "I heard about you, and how you handled the vampires in D.C. and New York. I must say that I was impressed. It must've been humiliating for them to be rescued by a woman."

"The Council has had women fight for them before; in fact, they have a woman on their team, now," said Nico.

"I swear," said Kris. "Some demons can never let go of old ways and old ideologies."

"Starr is not your average teenage girl," Bulgari said around a lungful of smoke.

"Of that, I'm sure," Keagan smiled and bowed to her.

A sweet scented pheromone, kind of like honey suckle filled her nose. Starr knew, immediately, that Keagan was somewhat attracted to her.

"Starr," Nina interrupted.

"Fernand instructed me to set up the den for you, as all the other rooms are occupied. Will you be taking coffee or brandy with dessert?"

Starr sighed long and loud. Last thing she wanted was to spend the night.
War Alone
Chapter 2

Next morning she woke to the sounds of birds chirping in the trees outside.

Thinking about blood, she got up and looked out of the window. In the garden, Kris was sucking out a pigeon: alone.

She hurried to get dressed.

By the time she'd made it to the kitchen, Kris was sitting at the table, reading a paper and drinking coffee.

"Morning, Starr. Coffee, here; Cups up there," he said, pointing to the cupboard next to her head.

As she sat down and poured a cup, she asked, "Where's Lucenzo?"

He folded up his paper, picked up his cup and nodded toward the patio doors.

She followed him out.

"I know what you want, and you're wasting your time."

"Why do you say that?" she said a little louder than she meant to.

"You just scared off the birds." He looked hard. "They're our breakfast, here."

"Sorry."

"Fernand's not gonna give up his brother."

"You make it sound like I'm after him." When he didn't respond, she added, "Lucenzo's been sending me messages all summer. He's trying to tell me something important."

"Well, I wouldn't know how to get to him, anyway."

"But you do know where he is?"

"He's imprisoned; serving a thirty year punishment, I believe."

"Are you gonna tell me where? Or am I gonna have to ask you twenty more times, only to get these evasive answers?"

"I told you; I don't know."

"Okay, then, you can start by telling me what you do know," she said, taking a step closer to him. "Credenza is up to something, and she wants to use Lucenzo. He doesn't want to work with her, but he fears he has no choice. Based on the visions he's sending me, it's bad, and I don't think he's in a position to resist her. Since I'm a terrible telepath, I need to speak to him in person."

"The only thing I know is what I've heard."

"Which is?"

"The Primordials rest in a place that no human could possibly live. Somewhere way up in Northern Europe: A Place called Valhol."

Just then, Nico walked onto the patio.

"Kris, can you come here for a second?"

Starr stared at the sky a few more moments as she sipped her coffee, before going back in.

Inside, Michael set out a tray of bagels and a bowl of blended blood-butter.

Keagan stood at the counter, and began heaping some of the red substance onto his bagel.

"Hey, Michael; Keagan."

"Good morning," said Michael. He walked toward the kitchen exit, looked up and down the hall and returned to the counter.

Looking her directly in the eyes, he whispered, "I heard you and Kris talking. What kind of visions has he been sending you?" Michael whispered.

Starr looked at Keagan, and was reluctant to answer, but then he said, "Don't worry; Keagan's okay."

Briefly, she gave him the short version of everything she'd seen that summer: the palace, the red talisman, Lucenzo's prison, and him getting beat.

"But what is Valhol?" she asked.

"Valhalla, as it's pronounced in English, is a fortressed city that doesn't exist on paper," Keagan answered, and then took a bite of his bagel. "Those who know its location have been sworn to secrecy, or they will be destroyed," he chewed.

"Yeah, but surely Fernand would tell me, if it meant saving his brother?"

"I don't think so. They're not as close as you think," Keagan said as he licked a bit of the red butter off his finger. "Lucenzo has brought shame upon his family. Fernand cannot interfere with his punishment, or else he risks being imprisoned or destroyed, himself."

But Starr wasn't one to give up without trying.

That morning, they went to the SoWa Open Market on Harrison Street. To keep up appearances, they decided to drive, except to them, driving meant being chauffeured.

Mick drove the extra long, black limousine to the front of the house.

As they walked in and out of the stands, buying art and food, Starr noticed that they were attracting a lot attention.

When they passed a table of mirrors glued into hand whittled wooden frames, she saw why: they were a peculiar looking group. They were all tall, skinny, pale and long haired, but Kris, Nico, Keagan, Madam Balaji and Bulgari were not only strange looking, but were extremely overdressed and carried themselves as if they were royalty.

Starr didn't have much interest in the market. With her eyes, she followed Fernand just waiting for an opportunity when he wasn't being the flamboyant host that he was.

She finally got her chance to pounce him when he wandered over to a table covered in bowls of low quality and semiprecious stones.

"Hi, Fernand."

"It's amazing how jewels can now be treated and made to look so natural, and so perfect."

He groped a handful reddish looking emerald cut gems and said, "So smooth and cool to the touch, and pretty."

The sight of the jewels gleaming in the light as they slid through his fingers back into the bowl reminded her of the jewel she'd seen in her dreams.

"In my day, jewels were hard to come by, and they were very expensive, indeed."

"Fernand, it's really nice to see you, and I appreciate your hospitality, but I'm here for information. I need to contact your brother. I..."

"Not now," he said assertively, and walked to the next stand as quickly as possible.

Starr made to follow him, but stopped at the end of the booth. In between two bowls was a little card that listed the properties of stones.

Amethyst – Protects Against Spirits

Aquamarine – Brings Wisdom

Coral – Wards off Evil

Diamond – Strengthens and Encourages

Emerald – To Conjure and Capture Spirits

She ran her finger down the list until she found Garnet.

Garnet – Protects against Evil, Warns of Danger

But was it a garnet or a ruby, in her dream?

She ran her finger down the list again.

Ruby – Increases Strength and Boosts Intelligence

She looked into the bowl of red jewels that Fernand sifted through his hand a moment ago. A whooshing feeling washed over her.

The plastic label taped to the bowl said, "Rubies."

The whooshing got worse.

Starr took a small step back from the bowl.

"Want one?" asked the vendor.

"I'll get it," said Michael, who'd just walked up.

"Thanks, uh, actually I'll have a green one," she said.

The old man grabbed a tear drop shaped emerald and put a smooth silver chain through the little hole that was drilled in its pointed tip.

As soon as she put the necklace on, she felt stable, again.

She looked over at Fernand, at the next stand.

"I wouldn't approach him again, if I were you. Although he doesn't seem short tempered, Fernand gets irritated very easily."

But she couldn't care less if Fernand got angry with her. Perhaps he could spend his time living happily and obliviously, about all that was happening around him, but that didn't make it alright.

An hour later, they sat down to a couple large tables at the Chateau Monte on the next street over.

Starr continued to watch Fernand, who avoided eye contact with her. After the waitress set a salad in front of him, he pulled a vial from his pocket. It was a silver container with a snake screw cap.

He twisted the cap and tapped the end, and out spilled blood onto his salad.

An idea came to Starr's mind.

She focused on the blood, imagining it spraying his lovely silk shirt.

A moment later, his shirt looked like a forensic blood splatter.

Flustered, and almost crying like a girl, he excused himself.

As he left the table, all eyes turned to Starr.

"Well, now's your chance," said Keagan.

The restrooms were at the back of a short hall. Leaning against the wall, she waited while trying to focus her mind on a blank slate – a way of cloaking her presence, though she was usually very poor at it.

Fernand opened the door and froze.

"Dammit, Starr! Don't you get it? I don't want to talk to you. Now, you've ruined my shirt!"

He tried to retreat back into the restroom.

"Fernand, stop!"

Starr pushed the door back. Wildly, it swung back, making a loud bang against the wall.

"Starr, this is a man's bathroom."

"If you'd stop trying to avoid me, I wouldn't be here."

"You need to leave, now!"

"Your brother is in trouble. I'm in trouble too. He's been sending me visions all summer."

"I'm not going to interfere. He made his bed, and I..." he trailed off. "I haven't been welcome home in a long time."

"What? But I thought you were the good son?"

He didn't respond, but the look in his eyes told Starr that something happened in their family. For whatever reason, he wasn't willing to look past it.

"I already did him a favor when I gave him the instructions to make the antidote to vampirism, and it almost cost me my life."

"You mean the antidote he gave to Lily, who was bitten by these modern zombified-vampires. Does it work on us, too?"

"No!" he said. "Now, excuse me!"

She followed him out of the bathroom. At the entrance of the hall, Keagan stood.

Starr tried to walk past, but his arms flew out, fast, grabbing her by the elbows and turning her to face him.

"Stop it," he said calmly, looking straight into her eyes.

"Keagan, you don't know what you're talking about. Now, let me go."

"I won't," he said. "He won't help you, and you can't force him. But I will help you."

She stopped struggling, and asked, "How?"

"Fly with me to my house, tonight," he said as he relinquished his grip. "My family would love to meet you."

Fernand avoided Starr for the rest of the day.

Later that afternoon, they returned to Fernand's house for a game of croquet and a barbeque. In between hits, Michael helped Starr practice telekinesis by showing her how to call birds from the sky.

Just like telepathy, certain forms of kinesis seemed to elude her. While she could accomplish small feats, like at the restaurant with Fernand, she was nowhere near as strong as most other vampires. Sometimes, it made her wonder if she were less intelligent than other vampires.

"It's not because you're less intelligent. Really, Starr, you always got good grades at school. You just have to remember that we're not all the same. We don't have the same strengths or powers; it's the same way with humans. Some people are mental beings; others are physical. You might just be more passionate about the physical, but you've still got mental savoir faire."

Michael put the pigeons in a bowl and took them to Nina.

She sat down next to Bulgari, at the lawn table under the awning.

"So you're going to the Scamall property?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, I should warn you: If you don't like our order's rites, you certainly won't like theirs. However, I advise you to keep your cool. Do not offend him or his family. They won't hesitate to eat you."

"Haha," Starr laughed lightly.

"You think I'm joking?" he asked as he put the orange butt to his mouth and dragged.

The Clouds
Chapter 3

At 11:30 p.m., they stood on the moist lawn. Keagan extended his hand. She grabbed on and he guided her into the foggy ocean-moist air.

He flew much faster than she could – an indication of his strength and age. The Scamalls lived three hours outside of Boston. With him, they made it to the property in fifteen minutes.

When they landed at the front double oak carved doors, he said, "Welcome to my home."

The enormous doors opened, automatically.

"We always have a welcome feast for first time visitors. Tonight will be a smaller party, though, because we didn't have much time to prepare, seeing as your invitation was last minute."

She tried to pretend to be thankful, but was really annoyed. One thing the old vampires liked to do a lot of was eating.

"In my day, feasting was a grand occasion," he explained, reading her mind a usual. "It was a sign of status, and status was important. The finer you dined, the more rich you were, and the more respected you were. We're lucky because we can never get full or fat."

Starr followed him through the enormous entrance hall, past several drawing and ball rooms.

Finally, they walked through an enormous glass door that, also, opened automatically.

Over an enormous pyre to their left, a 2,000 pound bull had been strung up. She growled at the sight of Scamall's man, who used an enormous machete to slice into its chest.

Keagan reached for her hand, and led her closer to the pyre. Amidst the bull's cries, the man continued to rip through its rib cage, and produced a large beating heart.

Starr felt her inner demon come out. Her fangs extended, and her night vision became clearer.

The man set the heart on a large wooden console that stood next to him. He sliced off several delicate slices of it, and placed them in a circular pattern onto a plate. Then, using a small silver spoon, he put black roe onto each slice, and then turned and handed the plate to Keagan with a light bow.

Keagan led Starr to the same grotto she remembered from before. It was a little cove with strung up white lights, except, this time, the table was dressed with a white silk cloth.

For a while, she enjoyed herself, and the light conversation they had, as they waited for the rest of his family to join them; that is until a pungent scent filled the air, alerting every pore in her body.

She turned her head and inhaled, deeply.

The aroma cleared her head of all the worries she'd had, the last few days. All she needed was to find the source of the scent.

Without real conscious thought, she stood from the table and walked off.

"Starr."

Keagan called after her, but she barely heard him.

A strange woman appeared before her. Starr stepped around her and went back inside the house.

The woman appeared before her, again, but this time she smacked her in the face.

Starr jumped.

The woman had fierce orange hair.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I think," she said, looking around, feeling completely baffled.

She was standing in a very large kitchen.

Her eyes settled on a wooden cutting board where a partially sliced human arm lay. It had a long slit along the bottom that ran all the way down to the middle of the palm of the hand, where the bone had been taken out.

"Come on," said the woman, turning her around, roughly. "You must wait for dinner."

"I-I'm sorry," she stuttered. "I don't know what happened."

"It's alright," said Keagan, as she sat back down in the grotto. "You've never fed on human before. The first time can be a reveling experience."

"I thought human feeding was disgusting?"

"Ahh....You've been talking to Lyssa, I see."

"I don't know any Lyssa."

"Some people like to change their names to reflect the times. I, however, do not. My name is Aine, by the way."

Although their conversation continued, pleasantly, Starr continued to think about the arm in the kitchen. Never, in her time as a vampire, had she been so turned on by a smell. Sure, she's around humans all the time, but seeing flesh deboned, smelling the inside of its flesh, was different.

"Starr," said Aine. "It's very rude to not pay attention to your hosts."

"Sorry," she said, shaking her head as if trying to ward off an unwanted nap.

A moment later, a man with strange wine colored eyes arrived – a birth defect, Starr assumed. She saw him the last time she was there.

"And this is Ciaran," said Keagan.

He bowed.

"You've had quite a year," He said enthusiastically. "We're always hearing things about you."

"Like what, and from whom?"

"Oh, from people, here and there. You're very popular in the vampire world."

"People keep saying that, and I don't understand why. I'm just a normal girl."

"You're popular because you always seem to be near the center of much danger and controversy," said Aine.

"Yes, everyone is curious to know about the young vampire-orphan who beat Levi, saved the Fleet from zombified-vamps, and who lives with humans," added Keagan.

"I, particularly, found Lucenzo's interest in you to be disturbing. I knew he was bad news from the beginning," said Ciaran.

"Please clarify your statement," Starr asked and demanded at the same time.

"Wow, Starr. They say you're a ball buster, too. At the moment, I'm thinking they're right."

Starr stared at Ciaran, waiting for answer.

Finally, he asked, "Did you never wonder why he moved into the clinic with you?"

"I assumed he was spying. He knew that I was in league with the Fleet, and trying to destroy his vampires."

"That was partially to his advantage, yes, but I've heard there was more to it."

"Please, don't stop," she said, feeling annoyed. Getting answers from people was starting to be her least favorite thing to do. "Continue," she said, trying to sound polite.

"I heard he was keeping an eye on you, for Lyssa," he said.

He poured some blood onto a saucer and ran a piece of bread across it.

"Who is Lyssa?" she asked more aggressively.

"Lyssa Callestonia Impresta Krystopio."

The name sounded familiar.

"She was the former Dacian Queen Romanian empress-warrior, and is, now, head of the vampire Council."

"Credenza was the Dacian queen?" she asked, remembering back to her time when Madam Balaji told her the story of the first vampire infection.

"Only, she wasn't the first," said Keagan. "I'm not sure why Madam told you that. It's just a story, but completely baseless."

"Why did she change her name?"

"To fit in with modern times," he said. "Names change, just like fashion."

But there was something else that bothered her about the name 'Lyssa.' She had the feeling she should have known why, but was more concerned with continuing her conversation with Ciaran. One thing she'd learned is when people are ready to talk, it's best to keep their lips flapping, lest they should lose the urge.

"So, what? Really, she probably didn't know he was behind the whole end-of-the-world thing," Starr countered.

Ciaran sipped his wine, and then said, "Lucenzo told me, himself. Now, I tell you, do not trust Lyssa, no matter what. Some believe she was in on this vampire apocalypse idea the whole time. She just didn't want to reveal herself as the source until the job was complete; she didn't want the leaders of the world turning on her before she was ready to fight them. Why do you think clans, like us, have turned against her? She is a manipulative blood sucker. We've tried to get rid of her, time and time again, but she is too strong."

"I'll be glad when that witch is dead," said Aine.

Starr was stunned into silence for quite a few minutes. While she felt for the Scamall's and the Negru, she still didn't know that they were any better than Credenza. There were many that would consider them barbaric.

"We are not barbarians," said Aine angrily, her cheeks hot-red. "We're merely old; from another age. We have the right to keep our traditions."

She was relieved when the servants began to bring the dinner trays around and serve them. She didn't want to upset them, and thought the distraction of dinner's arrival a smooth way to move the conversation along.

When the servant brought about a silver platter, Starr broke into a blood sweat.

Her fork fell to the table. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the flesh: the way the slices gradually became smaller, and then wider yet flatter, and then progressed into five rows of little bits.

Starr drank human blood, before, and had even eaten human brains, once while vamped out, but she'd never consumed their flesh.

Between her and the girls at the clinic, was a pact that they'd leave people alone, but, of them all, Starr was the most 'animal' of them all. More than anything, she wanted to put as many pieces of the flesh into her mouth, as she possibly could.

Its pinkish-brownish flesh drew her eyes. With a scent as fragrant as morning dew, the aroma touched her glands, making her nose flare in an effort to swallow the air.

She swallowed, deeply.

Ciaran pushed the tray close to her plate.

"Well, what's it gonna be?" he asked.

She wanted to try it so badly, but, at the same time, a part of her resisted. She'd made a promise, was she going to break it, now?

"No, thanks," she said.

"Don't feel guilty, Starr. It's normal for us to eat human," Keagan said passionately. "Don't pay attention to Lyssa's hypocritical spew. She's one of the biggest hunters of all. When she was first turned, she was reported to have consumed a human, blood and body, every night for centuries."

Ciaran picked up the large silver fork and stuck it in a piece of flesh, then, using the large knife, he lifted a slice of arm, and set it on her plate.

It didn't escape her notice that the flesh was so close to her bread that it lightly touched its crust.

Slowly, she lifter her hand to touch the meat. She relished the soft and gummy feel, sort of like pork. The texture was smooth, and it felt cool between her fingers.

It took all of her will to pull back her hand.

The rest of the dinner, they asked her questions about her life as a human, and rumors they'd heard of her as a vampire.

Starr obliged them with stories, all the while catching glances of the slice of arm on her plate. When it came time to eat her bread, she purposely rubbed it across the flesh, and then fantasized that she tasted human.

Aside from the meat, she noticed the Scamalls didn't like to talk much about their selves, which made her even more curious to learn of their dark past.

When they finished their food, her eyes were nearly glued to the waiter as he took her plate away.
Our Father
Chapter 4

The next morning, Keagan sent his assistant to tell her to take coffee and breakfast, and then to come visit him in his office at ten '0' clock.

She took her coffee in the grotto, where she practiced calling pigeons to her.

When ten 'o'clock arrived, she made her way through the large halls of the palace sized manor.

She saw Keagan through an enormous archway, at the end of a hall on the east wing.

His office was larger than the kitchen. Behind him, an enormous book case nearly reached the high ceiling, which had a large skylight.

To their left, ample sunlight shone through enormous double doors that opened to the back, where they had dinner the previous night.

She sat in the chocolate leather chair that faced him at his desk.

He looked up and smiled, "I hope you had a good rest."

"I did; thank you."

"That's good because I don't think you'll be welcomed back at Fernand's house for quite some time, but consider me an ally. If you ever need anything, come see me – without the Council, that is."

He stood up and walked to the double doors. Gently laying his hand on the gold handle, he said, "Now onto business. You want to know how to reach Valhol."

He opened the door, and beckoned her with his hand.

They went past the grotto where they had dinner, and into the back property.

For many miles out, until a mountainous ridge, there were only grassy fields.

"I thought we were going to look at some old books or maps," she said as she stepped over a large rock in her path.

"You're not going to find Valhol on some map."

After fifteen minutes of walking, Starr saw a smooth dark surface in the grass. It was a large green hinge-less metal door that was bolted down into a thick cement slab.

Keagan unscrewed each of the baseball sized bolts with his hands. He lifted the door by the double handles and set it in the grass.

They walked down the steps into the dark underground.

When Keagan stepped off the last step, soft yellow sensor lights came on, illuminating a plain cement oblong room with doors all the way down both sides.

Keagan went left.

Starr became uneasy when she realized that behind the doors wasn't emptiness. From the other side, she could hear their hearts beating, and their lungs breathing. They were cattle.

Starr's thoughts immediately flashed an image of the deboned arm.

Trying to stay calm, and not vamp out like she did at dinner, she focused on a blank slate, as she did when trying to block out mental intrusion.

But a feeling distracted her from the slate, and the people in the rooms: an energy. A large source of it; life so big and strong that it frightened her. Whatever it was could obliterate her very essence, soul and all.

At the end of the walkway was another set of steps. More sensor lights lit as they descended.

It was extremely cool and moist on the lower floor. The room was just as plain as above, but without the many doors.

She followed Keagan directly across the room, and stood in front of the cement wall. Immediately, she knew it was not just a wall, for she sensed the large energy on the other side.

Keagan stared at the wall a moment.

Then suddenly, it moved into the crevice to their right, revealing another cement room.

There wasn't a sign of human touch, except for what lay on the floor in the center of the room.

In an ankle length, yellowing linen smock was the largest man she'd ever seen. He had to have been about twelve feet tall, for his head and feet nearly touched the walls.

When she got over the length of the body, she was able to take in the rest of the details. He was half as wide as he was tall, with waist length white-blond hair that looked strong enough to repel on. His fingers were entwined, and they rested on his chest.

"This is Sestin. He's an ancient Norsemen who came to my country a millennium before the first Viking."

Starr's eyes settled onto his colorless skin that made Kris, the albino, seem rosy. Its texture looked as solid as stone.

"He's slipped into semi consciousness, but, if you ask, he might speak to you."

Semi consciousness was the stop between awareness and pure unconsciousness. It was the place where all vampires who tired of living, ended up, sometimes never to return.

"I found him by accident. I was walking about my father's property when, like you, I sensed his energy. Strong, he was, and more alluring than the scent of human flesh. He'd buried himself in the ground, and he'd been there three millenniums already."

"Does he know we're here?"

"Oh, yes. He won't open his eyes and be with us, physically, but he'll communicate with his mind. Semi consciousness is sometimes misleading, for at this stage, most vampires are very aware; they just choose not to use their bodies."

"Will it be easy to wake him?"

"A semi conscious vampire never truly sleeps, but you can arouse his awareness. If he wants to engage you, he'll acknowledge you; otherwise, he'll simply lay there like an inanimate object."

'Leave us,' a loud soft voice whispered into their minds.

Starr jumped.

"Was that him?"

"He's agreed to speak with you, but he wishes it to be just you two. I will return to my office. Be sure to bolt the door back down, when you're done."

After Keagan had gone, she merely stared at Sestin's still form, wondering if she should say something.

'Sit.'

She said into his mind, 'Would you, at least, look at me? I'd feel much more comfortable.'

'Why should I? I see you plainly.'

When she didn't reply, he said, 'I know you want to find Valhol. I will show you where it used to lie, but, first, you're going to see me. I need to make you understand.'

"Understand what?"

'Be quiet! There is a reason people speak silently to gods; they don't want to disturb their physical bodies.'

'You're not a god,' she thought with disgust.

'Of course not, but people commonly mistook the hardened forms of immortals for gods. They, like myself, slipped into varying states of consciousness. And we're always disgusted by the rudeness of people, like you who cannot respect the fact that we wish to let our bodies inanimate. No, you think we want to listen to your pathetic ramblings, as if we haven't had enough of life as it is.'

He paused a moment.

'Your chances of making it to Valhol are abundantly none; even if you make it past the elements, the Primordials would destroy you, rather than bare the sight of a lowly human vampire. Only a few of us are strong enough to take on a Primordial, and you've already seen how easily they can kill with just a thought.'

Sestin commanded Starr's eyes shut.

'Stop it!' Starr spoke into his mind. 'I hate visions.'

But he didn't. Instead, a heavy buzzing feeling overwhelmed her brain.

'Relax; breath,' he said. 'Your problem is you resist the visions.'

An image played itself, like a movie, in her mind.

She saw a land that was sunny and bright. To her left and right were dozens of clay houses with straw roofs.

Extremely tall people walked and worked, here and there; even the women were at least six feet in height. They all wore drab linen smocks, like Sestin's, even the men.

These were a golden people, with bright hair and eyes that glowed as much as their tanned skin.

They spoke in an old Scandinavian language that Starr knew not, but she understood them anyway.

In the hut directly across from where her consciousness viewed, a gorgeous man in a leather skirt was putting clay pots into an oven. He shut the door, turned around and looked right at her. Instantly, Starr was affected by the way the sun reflected off his penetrating eyes.

He bent over and picked up a couple logs of wood, tossed them in the back of the stove and put a metal top on.

A couple of people walked by, saying his name. Sestin nodded and raised his hands, which were large enough to engulf an entire basketball, in acknowledgement.

Starr couldn't help but notice that they were a very handsome people, these primitive Norsemen.

Sestin was especially handsome then, and very muscular. Though most of the people were already large, Sestin had the physique of a warrior; with shoulders wider than the entrance to his hut, and calves thick like tree trunks.

The brooding look on his face, as he wiped his forehead with a cloth instantly made Starr feel soft for him.

More people nodded to him as they passed. Clearly, he was respected, but something was troubling him.

A woman with calf length waves came from the hut.

"Sestin," she said, "be sure to take the little one, when you go tonight. We can't spare any more than that."

"Yes, Mother," he said, tying his waist length hair back with a piece of cloth.

"Sestin!" screamed a young girl who was running up the dirt. She was a frantic young girl with tears streaming down her face.

Looking back at Sestin, and seeing the concern on his handsome face made Starr feel even softer.

"What is it?" he ran up to her, and knelt to the ground to look her in the face.

"Jin and I, we were playing. He climbed the tree out in the field, but then that tiger came. Mother warned us, but we didn't listen!"

He leapt up, ran back to the house and grabbed a double edged battleax, and ran back to the girl.

"Go home," he said to her, and then ran past.

Just like a pan shot on a screen, so did the vision, as it followed Sestin down the road of houses, and right into a large clearing.

A mile out, she heard the boy crying, but couldn't see him anywhere.

"JIN!" he yelled.

Sestin followed the cries to the large leafless tree in the distance. As he got closer, Starr was able to see where the boy and the tiger were.

Together, they sat on the same limb of a tree. Jin was as far out to the edge as he could be, without falling, and the tiger was slowly putting one paw ahead of another, and pushing down on the limb, testing to see if it would take his weight.

Hearing the boy's cries made Starr uneasy.

Sestin didn't hesitate. He dropped the ax and climbed up the tree. The tiger paid no attention to him as he climbed up the trunk, except to turn his head and deliver a hiss warning.

He ignored it and climbed a foot past the limb on which they sat; then he leaned back and grabbed the tiger by its tail and yanked it off the branch.

It screamed and clawed, and tried to jerk itself upward, to get at Sestin, but its tail was too long.

There was a curdling scream that rent the air. Starr looked back and saw a woman running toward them.

Sestin climbed further up the tree.

"Go, Jin!" he shouted as he climbed further up.

The boy scooted, gently, across the limb, and grabbed the trunk.

When he got half way down, the woman ran up and grabbed him.

Sestin groaned under the weight of the tiger, as he watched the woman return to their settlement.

He let go of the tiger, and it crashed through several branches before hitting the ground. Instead of taking off, the cat sat on its rear and reached up the tree trunk, threatening to climb it again.

Sestin leapt to the ground and rolled.

Instantly, the tiger was on him and trying to bite his neck.

Starr gasped.

Sestin quickly blocked the tigers attempt to bite him by crossing his fisted arms across his chest and up to the sides of his neck.

He cried out as the tiger sliced its teeth into his wrist. Despite the pain, Sestin pushed his arm further into the mouth of the animal, forcing its head back.

He put his free hand around the cat's throat and squeezed with all his strength.

The cat relented, pulled back, giving Sestin a moment to stand.

Sestin and the tiger looked at each other for a second. The cat leapt at him once more. Sestin put up both his hands, and grabbed the animal's neck.

He squeezed tight, and pushed forward against the animal's weight, stumbling onto his knees; the cat's back was slammed, firmly, into the trunk.

Amidst screams and repeated gashes to his back, Sestin showed no pain or fear. Instead, he looked to the battleax, and appeared to be calculating his chances of getting the weapon before the animal tackled him again.

Sestin braced himself, let go of the animal's neck and grabbed the ax, but he froze just as he was about to bring the head down.

The tiger wasn't moving.

Unbelievably, and even to his surprise, he'd suffocated the tiger.

Foolishly, he kicked the tiger's side.

The cat's leg flinched.

Quickly, he raised the ax, and brought it down, severing its neck.

He pulled a large knife from his belt and gutted the animal almost the same way she'd usually do; peeled off its fur and then cut through its abdomen, and cleaned out its innards.

When he finished, he quartered the meat, emptied the skull, and made his way back to his people.

Starr exhaled.

As Sestin walked back to the settlement, people came out of their huts and cheered. Many of them ran up and gave him gifts; mostly baskets of fruit and bread.

Starr smiled.

But Sestin still looked unhappy.

The scene changed. It was late afternoon. Sestin was pulling the pots from the oven. He looked right.

Starr looked right, too.

A thin woman walked beside a man who carried a basket. She looked back at Sestin. His already serious eyes became even more serious, and the corners of his mouth clenched into little wrinkles.

He looked down as his face turned red. "Hi, Sestin," said the woman and the man, and they went inside.

For a moment, he didn't move, but he stood stiffly, looking at the ground. When he looked up again, Starr thought she saw shame on his face.

The scene changed once more.

It was a little later in the same day. Only, they must have just finished their dinner because Sestin came outside, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood a moment and over arched his back.

He exhaled and walked alongside the house, toward the back.

The scene followed him down the side of the house, and into a woolly sheep pen. Sestin grabbed a looped rope from the ground and put it around a runt's neck.

The vision continued to follow Sestin back out of the pen, and down the road; animal in tow.

As he walked, other men joined him, and they, too, had brought animals, as well as other things. One man carried a little stone jar, which he said held frankincense. The man next to him had a small bushel of wheat.

It didn't really dawn on Starr, what the men were walking into, until she saw, in the distance, a ring of torches highlight a large unlit altar pyre.

Men stood around it, praying and singing.

As they got closer, she saw that from the pyre stood three stakes: two small ones and one very large in the center.

The sight frightened her; goosebumps rose on the back of her neck and arms, briefly waking her from the vision. She didn't want to see anymore.

She tried to open her eyes to end their connection, but Sestin held her firm.

Sestin walked past a man with a horned skull on his head. The man said, "Happy Eostre, Brother."

He said nothing as he looked, quickly, away.

With his lamb he walked over to an empty spot where he sat on the grass. The animal crawled into his lap, where Sestin ran his hands, tenderly, over its head and back.

Starr watched him stroke the animal into a calm manner. It only took a moment for it to drift into sleep.

The man with the skull called his name.

Sestin looked up.

This time his eyes weren't penetrating and severe, but rather weak and dull. His jaw looked tight and his eyebrows were furrowed down.

For a moment, the sadness she saw in him made him even more attractive.

Gently, he held the sheep into his chest, tucking its furry body under his neck. It woke up and bleated softly.

Then he stood and walked it to the pyre. He tied it to a small stake to the left of the large one in the center, and continued to pet it.

Others came up and tied their animals to the two smaller stakes.

A moment later, there was a sheep, deer, goat, and llama on the unlit pyre.

The man with the horned skull walked up the steps that lead to the altar. A man with a basket followed him.

From the basket, he pulled a rich red cloth, and laid it over the altar. He pulled a goblet, a dagger, and a little bronze dish, upon which he poured frankincense into.

The man put his hands together and prayed, silently. Using two fingers, he traced a circle around the mouth of the cup, the incense dish and the dagger.

"Sol, we call you," he said. "Bless us, for we are your children."

He grabbed the dagger in one hand, raised his arms skyward and said, "Happy Eostre, brothers. And now we will start the blessing."

He lit the frankincense, raised the chalice and knife to the sky and said, "Come to me and bless me on this spring equinox, Goddess. Give me your power, so that I may bless the land, the people, so that we might survive plentiful. Tonight, we bring you the ultimate sacrifice, the gift that you bestowed upon us: life."

Still holding the cup and the dagger, he walked down the steps of the altar and around to the front of the pyre, where he approached the deer first.

The man who held the basket followed. He held the deer still, so that the dagger could pierce its neck easily.

He waited a few minutes as blood spilled into the cup. The deer, dizzied, now lay on its belly.

Next, he went to the runt lamb and did the same, and then the goat and llama.

He turned around and said, "Now, for the final sacrifice."

Everyone in the group got real still. They all looked at each other in complete silence. Suddenly, there was a scuffle in the back of the group. Starr couldn't see what happened, but she heard a man shout.

"NOOOOOO! SESTIN! HELP!"

The man whom Starr saw walking beside the woman earlier, was dragged to the front of the crowd.

Sestin flinched, almost as if he was going to help the man, but then he stopped himself. His face turned red; his eyes glassy.

He didn't even look up to see as they tied the man to the center stake. Instead, he looked, cowardly, to the ground.

Once again, the man with the horned skull cut his jugular, and caught his blood in the cup.

The man's cries died down as more and more blood flowed from his jugular.

Starr was disturbed with the scene, and the softness she felt for Sestin turned to disgust.

"We thank you for your sacrifice, Brother; that the land be blessed, and that we might live with our bellies full once more. The goddess, Gottfiona, will take you in her bosom and breathe into you, life that will give you powers of the gods."

Then, the man dipped his finger into the chalice and made the shape of a circle on his forehead, and did the same to the lamb and the others.

He walked to the line of men with items for sacrifice, and made the same circle.

He walked back to the front of the altar.

The men with the torches went around and lit five sections of the pyre.

"Sol," he shouted over the flames, "you are center of the cosmos. Let your rays sing their songs and sow our fields, as Thor beats back the ice blades of winter, and rises once more in the dawn of the year. With this dagger, I bless the Earth."

He dipped his finger in blood, smeared it over the dagger, and stuck it in the ground.

"With a sip of this blood, I rejuvenate the Earth." He turned the cup upside down on the ground. The blood ran around the sides.

The fire had finally consumed most of the edges of the pyre, making a large circle of flame. In a line, the men went up and tossed their offerings in.

The animals and the man, still alive, and very much aware, screamed and cried as the flames got closer.

Sestin stood with his head down, looking as if he were suffocating on his conscience. When, finally, the screams reached an unbearable pitch, he ran, screaming at the pyre, leapt into the air, and wrangled his arm around the torso of the man.

The weight was too much for the stake, and it broke off. They flew to the other side of the pyre and rolled in the dirt.

Sestin sat up, but it was too late. The man lost too much blood; he died when he hit the ground.

"Why did you do that?" asked the man with the skull.

"Because Sol doesn't care about these sacrifices! Now, you've killed my sister's husband! She's pregnant!"

"How dare you say such things! We do this so that we may eat. Now, we'll starve and it's your fault."

"We did these rites last year, and we still nearly starved! These sacrifices are pointless. This land is getting warmer. If we want to survive, we must find new territory."

When they said nothing, he said, "To Helheim with all of you! I'm going home!"

The men parted, allowing him through the crowd.

Some of them didn't want to let him go. A man leapt onto his back, and attempted to suffocate him with his interlocked arms. Sestin pulled him off with ease, and threw him a dozen feet back through the air.

They looked like they would have tied him up and burnt him at the stake, but they all stood and stared motionless. Perhaps because they knew they could never take him.

He ran back up the road to the hut. He stumbled inside, screaming, "Mother, Tatia!"

They came from the rooms in night clothes.

"What is it?" asked his mother.

He told them everything that happened.

"No!" cried his sister. "You monster! How could you let this happen?"

"How can you be such a hypocrite? You had no issues with them killing poor Jutnat, last year."

"He was feeble!" she screamed at him through a fountain of tears.

"He was a human being! And someone's son! He was scared, and died crying for his mother, and for his father to save him, but he just stood there."

"Like you did, tonight?" she retorted.

The scene changed. It was the next morning; they set to work as usual. Except people weren't as friendly, but regarded them with cold shoulders.

He set to making his pots.

When the scene changed again, it was to see Sestin sitting on the ground with a pile of pots around him. People walked by and didn't stop, nor wave.

The sun was setting. Sestin looked to be deep in thought. A voice whispered in his head, but somehow echoed in hers, too: It said, they're coming for you.

Sestin jerked his head left and right; then stood and walked in and out, and then around the house.

He sighed as if he knew it all along; that they were planning to attack him when he least expected it.

The vision changed to him having dinner around a tiny table inside the hut, with his mother and sister.

"I think they'll be coming for me," he said out loud at the dinner table. "I don't know when, but you should be prepared."

"Are you happy, now?" cried his mother, slamming her wooden spoon on the table. "Now, they're after us all."

"First, you're mad because I let them kill her husband. Now, you're mad because I interfered? Which is it, Mother?"

"It doesn't matter. I'm leaving!" his sister said. "I cannot look at these people who murdered the father of my child! I can't look at you," she said.

She stood up and left the room.

He looked at his mother and said, "You and Tatia will leave tonight, at midnight. I will stay behind; otherwise, they'll follow and kill us all. Better you go ahead. Send word that you're okay. As long as I'm here, I can make sure they don't go after you."

When the moon reached the halfway point on the west horizon, Sestin watched his mother and sister walk through the town.

They reached the end of the row of houses. At that point, Sestin quickly ran out the back of their hut, and along the rear of the row of houses. Staying in the shadows, he nearly caught up with them as they approached a long grassed-over road.

Sestin hid behind a tree and watched them walk. When they made it over the little incline, he followed them all the way down to the low lands, before turning back.

Days went by, but no one came to kill him. He'd long since abandoned making pots, which lay in a heap inside the hut, now.

He sat, once more, in front of his house and watched people walk by as if he wasn't there.

A peculiar stranger with the brightest orange hair, and eyes that appeared to have flames dancing in them, approached.

Starr recognized him instantly. He looked at her, on the side of the road that night of her battle with the Fleet, and it felt like his eyes were burning through her.

He stood and stared at Sestin, saying nothing.

"Alright, who are you?"

"I'm Vidar."

"You're eyes are strange. Are you human?"

"More or less."

"What do you want?"

"Some pots."

Sestin looked as if he hardly believed the man, but said, anyway, "How many?"

"All of them."

He looked at the strange man a moment longer, and then stood up.

Vidar pulled out a small leather bag, and jiggled it.

The next day, the man came back.

"You're back?"

"Yes, I want to thank you for the lovely pots. I've brought you something."

He pulled a couple large leather bags from under his cloak.

"I figured you could use a friend."

"So, let me ask of you, personal questions, Friend. Why did you not attempt to save your sister's husband sooner?"

"How do know about that?" he slurred slightly.

"I saw the whole thing go down."

"I didn't help sooner because I'm a coward."

"Surely, not! You fought that tiger, and you're the strongest man here. They fear you; that's the reason they haven't tried to kill you yet."

"But they will try to kill me; they're merely waiting for the right time to attack. You see, I dirtied their sacred rite. To fix it, they need to shed my blood."

"Yet you stay here when you know your life is in danger. You seem very brave, to me."

"My life is valueless," he said as he took another sip of his wine.

"You don't believe that?"

He said nothing.

"Why don't you come and stay with me for a while. I wasn't planning on bringing on a servant, as I'm quite self sufficient, and I prefer it that way, but I hate the idea of a good soul going to waste. You need a purpose in life, and I can give it you. I'll give you a good position and a nice home. I live in a lovely fortified city, not too far from here, and I'm a high ranking official. Do well, and you'll live a wonderful, purposeful life."

"I can't. I'm waiting to hear from my mother and sister."

A message from his mother came the next day.

They set out for Valhol, the next morrow.
The Hall
Chapter 5

"How big is this incline?" he breathed.

"Just to that point," Vidar said, raising his hand and pointing.

They trudged up the rocky green plain. At the very top, they stopped and looked over the lowlands. Starr realized they were on the peak of an enormous mountain.

It must have taken days to get that far.

Below, was an evergreen valley that was thousands of square miles. In the distance, nestled on the base of a mountain, she could see the tiny settlement where Sestin and his people lived.

"Why do you never get tired?" Sestin asked.

Starr's jaw dropped.

He hadn't a clue that Vidar was not human.

Although it must have been days more before the real Sestin reached Vidar's home, the scene morphed into them standing before an enormous grey brick wall: the same one from Starr's vision of Lucenzo. Only, back then, it had an enormous set of double doors.

Vidar pulled an extremely large key from out of his shirt. He unlocked the city door and, with inhuman strength, pushed it back.

Inside was exactly the same as she'd seen before. It was a completely bricked city with small alleys and tall brick buildings.

The city entrance was a large and beautiful display of green grass, koi ponds and trees. On both sides of the road, on which they walked, were stone statues and benches.

A sweet scent of honeysuckled wafted toward her. She inhaled deeply, even though she knew it was just a memory.

They walked over the little bridge she remembered from her vision: the one that went over the enormous koi pond, only the fish were smaller than they are now.

In the city square, people laundered garments and rugs. Further along, an enormous heat came from the stone shed to their left.

She looked in and saw the backs of men making swords and melting sand into glass beads.

Vidar lead Sestin down a particularly obscured alleyway. The buildings on both sides closed in tightly on them, blocking out the sun.

At the very back of the city, and along the gray wall was a castle almost as big as the one in the city's center.

Inside was a large and spacious quarters. Everything was whittled and rough cut. The chairs had itchy straw stuffed cushions with hand twined backings. In the center of the room was an enormous wooden table.

"This is my dwelling. Every morning you will bring my breakfast here. The kitchen is in the main center square; attached to the castle. If you follow the alleys diagonally through, they all lead you right back to the center of the city.

After the servants fetch their masters' breakfast, they may return and have their own. After, you will come back and start your morning chores."

They sat down and he rattled off a bunch of city laws, house rules, and expectations of his position.

Then he showed him to his quarters, which were on the East side of where his property lay.

It was a three story gray building. Inside was dark and cool. One hundred servants lived there.

"These are men like you: talented, special, handpicked to serve us."

Vidar led him to a tight little room that he would share with a roommate.

Starr recognized him, too: Fernand.

The vision skipped ahead, and morphed into a few days, later. Sestin had just walked in, and was carrying Vidar's breakfast tray.

As he set it on his desk, Vidar said, "Today, you are excused from your responsibilities. You will go to the altar room, in the town square where you will learn the history of our people. Follow the alley past the kitchens. The altar room is in the back. You will return there every day before your rest day, and after you've brought me breakfast."

The vision followed him through the cool, shadowy brick alleys to just past the kitchen in the town center. A gathering of men, including Fernand, stood by and a man by the name of Stelar invited them in.

Even back then, Fernand was flamboyant. He talked to everyone and smiled wide. When Sestin walked up, he followed him to his seat, chattering nonstop.

Stelar lectured them about who the Primordials were and how they were born of the ashes of a fire breathing dragon.

"So why are you here, if you're Lucenzo's brother?" asked Sestin on their way back to their lair.

"I'm only his half brother. I'll be subject to the same position as everyone else."

The scene morphed into a montage of Stelar teaching them about philosophy, nobility and strength; other days, they could be found outside, sword fighting, battling and learning about the land.

Naturally, Sestin was the best warrior of them all. Every move he made was attractive to Starr. She would have loved to take him on in battle.

Some days later, Sestin and some of the guys were sitting in a small grass sectional of the city, drinking wine and relaxing. They were talking of an initiation, and wondering who would be picked that year.

Sestin was listening intently, but he was momentarily distracted by a crying noise. He jerked his head and looked around for the source.

Riding past them, over the little bridge was an enormous cargo.

"Did you hear someone crying?" he asked Fernand.

"It's just the squeaky wheels of the cargo."

They returned to their quarters, and bade goodnight to each other.

The scene went dark.

Suddenly, there was a scuffle. Starr couldn't see anything because Sestin couldn't.

When the scene progressed out of the servants quarters and out under the moonlight, she saw through the tiny gaps of the cloth bag, they'd put over his head, that he was being dragged to the city's center.

It stayed dark for a few more moments. Then she heard them take steps, and open and close a door.

When they took the bag off his head, Starr saw that he faced two Primordials with the same dancing eyes.

They made him kneel on the rug, next to several others – including Fernand.

Stelar entered the room. He made a speech and then blessed them.

Over a small gold chalice, he slit his wrist and bled into the cup.

He passed the cup down the row, and they each took a drink and fell to the ground.

The scene went dark again, except for momentary glimpses of a candle lit room.

Starr couldn't help but try to break her connection with Sestin when the vision showed swirling bouts of colors.

Understandably, Sestin was having hallucinations because of the blood, but Starr didn't want to see them.

Fortunately, Sestin didn't make her watch them. He sped up his memory.

A few days later, Vidar and Sestin stood on a city bridge at night.

"I'm so proud of you, Sestin. I knew, straightaway, when I saw you that you were like no other. You're not only strong but wise. This is the most important thing. So many feeble civilizations out there, but even the strongest must die, at some point. We could only hope to pass on our culture to someone as evolved as you. Unfortunately, your transformation is not complete until you take your final test. You must drink fresh blood of a human."

Although Starr paid attention to the conversation, she was momentarily distracted by the color of his eyes, which had turned red like Ciaran's.

"I appreciate everything you've done, but I was raised to believe that murder is wrong."

"You'll not have to drink blood always, just this once. Surely, there is someone whom you think deserves to die."

But when he swore he wouldn't kill, Vidar said fine.

A couple mornings later, he showed up with bad news: his mother, sister, and her baby were dead. He told Sestin that he found them slaughtered by the men from his old settlement.

That night, they stood on the bridge once more. Vidar extended his hand; Sestin accepted.

They flew down, fast.

Starr was angered at the sight of gullible Sestin's steely, revenge seeking face. She felt herself frown as she watched him walk into every single hut and killed all the women, babies and all.
Actions Due
Chapter 6

Starr opened her eyes and stood up.

She walked to the wall, but it shut, suddenly. Starr couldn't open it herself.

'Let me out!'

'SIT DOWN!'

'I WILL NOT!'

Starr tried pyrokinesis to break down the wall, when suddenly she was dragged back to her spot, and forced to sit down.

'I WILL not tell you again.'

'I've upheld my end of the deal, and now you'll uphold up yours.'

'You've upheld nothing! I wanted to know where Valhol is, not your sordid life story.'

'You've seen and smelled it, Valhol, and now you can go there. Listen to your inner demon-your inner animal.'

Vampires, like animals, had a sixth sense that allowed them to know and track places.

'Great, now let me out.'

'Now your payment is due.'

'What do you want?'

'For you to permanently separate my consciousness from my body.'

In her surprise, her voice raised several pitches higher.

'You want to die?'

'So dramatic and numb skulled, you are! After everything you've been through, you still don't understand that death is not the end.'

After a moment, he said, 'There is no place in the world for a person with a body like mine. I wish to start over again.'

'Why not return to Valhol?'

'Living is about evolution. I already had my time with the Primordials.'

'Why do you ask this of me?'

'Because the Primordials are only a handful, now, so they won't allow me to die.'

'But you're not one of them.'

'But I look like a Primordial. I'm the image of what they used to be. Vidar still lives, and he won't hear of my demise.'

'What if he comes after me?'

'Once I drank their blood, I inherited all their powers, and now I'm, in a way, a Primordial. Once you drink my blood, you'll be one, too.'

'I don't want to drink your blood.'

'You have too. I've been waiting for someone like you to come along. Now is my chance, and I will seize it, for I won't spend another century tethered to this body. Today, only one person will be left living, here: you or me.'

Starr sighed.

'How do you want me to do this?'

'Just like a common vampire, our brains must be destroyed. Out in the hall is a long machete. It is used to maim or kill the guests when a snack is desired. You will use it to penetrate my skull.'

'Your skin is too tough.'

'As we age, though our skins get tougher, it is quite easy to rip or shred. Much like an exotic fruit, you must strike it the right way.'

'Yeah, okay.'

She stood up and the concrete wall slid back. He whispered the way to the sword to her.

But when she got to the upper floor, she tried to run for it.

Sestin's invisible force pulled her back, slamming her back onto the concrete floor.

Pain shot up and down her back, paralyzing her temporarily.

Starr heard the green door being bolted back into the ceiling, but she still couldn't get up.

The people in the rooms screamed and cried out.

Sestin tried to drag her back down the stairs, but Starr wedged herself across the doorway.

Angered by her stubbornness, he growled so loud that it hurt her ears.

Starr ran back to the green door and pounded it with her fists. A second later, she heard steps echoing off the concrete.

Scared, she turned around and watched him get closer.

Starr knew she was close to vamping out, as is what happens when their kind are in extreme danger: The animal within would take over. As it was, her teeth had already extended.

Sestin got closer and closer. Looking straight at her with his gleaming red eyes, he leaned his hardened face into hers, and surprised her by slamming his fist into her gut.

She reeled in pain. It was like being nailed by a comet.

She fell to the floor and cried.

He reached down and pulled her up by the hair.

She screamed to the top of lungs, and then all went black.

Kicked out of Boston
Chapter 7

The sounds of footsteps brought her back to reality.

She peered up and saw Keagan standing over her, looking livid.

Sestin's brains lay half eaten on the ground. His rib cage had been broken back, and his heart, liver and kidneys were missing from the pile of innards that Starr must have pulled out of his chest.

"How could you do this?" he asked with a shaky voice.

His eyes were iridescent and his fangs were drawn.

"I-I didn't mean to. He attacked me; it was a setup."

"Why?"

"Because he knew I'd take him out, one way or another."

"No, but why you? I've been his loyal servant for centuries!"

She couldn't answer because the blood from his heart and brains were already causing her pain and hallucinations.

She screamed out as she rolled around the floor in pain.

"AAAAARRRGGHHH!" Keagan screamed and jumped on her.

He punched her in the face repeatedly, sending blood spatters across the room.

She wanted to fight back, but the blood made her so sick that she couldn't even vamp out.

Starr felt his fangs on her throat when he was flung from her.

She didn't get to see who saved her because she'd passed out.

~~~

When she came to, she was in a sagging green bed.

She got up and walked out of the dusty old room. Her limbs felt heavy like stone, and her head pounded, slightly.

Slowly, Starr walked downstairs.

It was strange house that hadn't been re decorated since the sixties.

Ciaran and Aine were there, in the living room. He was taking tea in and doing a crossword while Aine was working on her laptop.

"Hello?" she half asked-half said.

She expected them to be angry with her, but they weren't.

"Hi, glad to see you're alright," said Ciaran.

"We're at our old house in the city," said Aine. "In case you're wondering."

"Look, I'm so sorry. I don't know what Sestin meant to you. I tried to refuse him, but he kept coming at me."

"It's alright. We understand. One thing many of us look for, as we age, is the right person to end us. Since many will be looking to gain the strength of that person's blood, we always look for the choicest person. We don't want to give our gifts to those we don't believe in," said Aine.

"Or someone who would misuse our powers," added Ciaran. "Sestin chose you because he liked you. Keagan is just jealous. He's always been a least favorite of almost everyone who's ever known him."

"He's hot tempered, shallow, possessive..." Aine supplied.

Confused by the idea that Sestin liked her, she said, "He seemed barely able to tolerate me."

"The old ones lose patience. You would too, if you had to deal with people like you, century after century," said Aine.

Normally, Starr would have taken her words as insult, but, as she reflected on the wisdom of it, it made sense to her. Dealing with puerile man for centuries might just drive her crazy too.

"There's something I don't understand: What's the difference between consciousness and a soul?"

"When a human takes of the Primordial blood, or is bitten and turned by a vampire, it's said that he or she suffers mortal death. That in the hours between, our soul leaves our bodies, leaving us more animal; acting on pure instinct," said Ciaran.

"But Sestin kept saying he wanted to separate his conscious from his body?"

"A euphemism we sometimes use. What he was really saying, was that he was ready to die; that he didn't want to think anymore."

"Do the Primordials have souls?"

"Not typically, unless they're half," Ciaran replied.

"But we really don't know for sure," Aine interrupted. "Honestly, it's just hearsay. One would have to die in order to find out."

"Does this make me a Primordial now?"

"Maybe an honorary one, if they choose to acknowledge you. You do look deader than ever though."
Final Transformation
Chapter 8

She fell from the sky to her knees, in the dirt of the mesa top. Considering she was still ill from the blood, she was just glad to have made it home.

Starr could have stayed with Ciaran and Aine, but she didn't want to risk Keagan coming for her when she was weak.

Starr stood and carefully walked into the Lake George house – where the kids moved to after the clinic burned down.

"Hey, everyone," she said lowly.

"Starr's home," Misty shouted to the house.

Over the next few days, she went in and out of a feverish sleep. Occasionally, one of her friends would come in and check on her.

When she finally woke up one morning feeling refreshed, she went downstairs and poured herself a large cup of coffee.

"Hi, Starr," came her best friend's, Marla's, voice. "What happened to you? I thought vampires couldn't get sick?"

But when Starr turned around, Marla shrieked, startling her and making her drop her coffee.

Shane ran in and said, "What's going on?"

Speechless, Marla just pointed at Starr, then, slowly backed away.

"What?"

When they wouldn't answer, Starr got a towel and began cleaning up the mess.

"What happened to you?" asked Marla.

"It's a long story, guys. I'm too tired to get into it, right now."

"What happened to your eyes?" asked Shane.

The question was bizarre. At first she shook it off, but then she froze.

A second later, she bolted up the stairs to the bathroom.

Her eyes were wine colored, like Sestin's or Ciaran's.

So that was how they got it. But how did Fernand not have red eyes, too? He drank their blood.

"Contact lenses," she said to herself.

Road to Heaven

Vampin Book Series #12

By Jamie Ott

Copyright © 2012 Jamie Ott.

All rights reserved. For permissions or information, please contact ladysonoma@americamail.com

Publication: 6/7/2012

No parts of this book may be used without permission.
Road to Heaven

Vampin Book Series #12

By Jamie Ott

Copyright © 2012 Jamie Ott.

All rights reserved. For permissions or information, please contact ladysonoma@americamail.com

Publication: 6/7/2012

No parts of this book may be used without permission.
Snow Mountains
Chapter 1

Too tired to care about being seen, she descended from the sky.

Softly, she landed a few feet from the entrance. The thick layer of snow crunched under her heels, as she walked, quickly, to the door of the shack.

From the air, she sensed that it was a café the locals visited, even though it looked like an old condemned building.

She kicked off caked-on snow from her boots, and pulled back the door.

The patrons all looked up, as she walked to the bar. She could see why, too: She stuck out greatly with her jet black hair and clothes.

In the rural parts of Scandinavia, many people were fair haired, not to mention dressed very plainly.

She slipped off her black faux shearling coat, and hung it on the back of a bar stool, and scooted in.

Her sunglasses had practically frozen to her face. Despite knowing that she should keep them on, she removed them.

Keeping her eyes down, she asked the bartender for a beer, stew, and sandwich.

She rubbed her cold hands on her face.

It had been several months since she'd left Lake George. The decision wasn't hard to make because she thought the images an old vampire planted in her mind would be enough to guide her to Valhol, but she was wrong.

Instead, she'd been searching for months, trying to tell her inner demon to use its instinct to find the old peak. Her senses continued to lead her between the half dozen countries; one day she'd fly to Norway, then to Finland, and the next: Sweden, or some other place.

As it was, she didn't even know what country she sat in, at the moment.

She was simply exhausted.

The only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that Credenza would come for her, in the end; after she'd done massacring all the 'barbarian vampires of the world.' However, Starr, now, knew better, even the Order of Black had gone into hiding.

She just didn't understand it.

Valhol was on a Scandinavian mountain peak. Sestin, the old vampire, showed it to her before she killed him.

But why did she sense the city of Valhol in nearly every Scandinavian country?

"Here you go, Miss," said the man.

"Thank you," said Starr, as she greedily started drinking down the hot liquid.

Never in her life had she appreciated the taste and feel of hot soup so much. Not that her kind ever felt cold anymore – or at least not in the human aggravating sense, but it did suck to be wet and moist all the time; not to mention stiff jointed.

Since she'd died, her sense of hot and cold had become skewed, somewhat. The only way she knew when temperature was a problem was when her joints and muscles got extremely stiff. For a human, this would be called advanced hypothermia.

Thankfully, the stew helped considerably. She sighed as the warm liquid bled down her throat, and into her stomach. From there, like coals in a fire, the warmth spread to her heart and traveled up and down her back.

"Anything else, Miss?" asked the barkeep.

"A room?" she asked plainly.

"Yeah, you're gonna go down the road a bit, and, hey Miss, you're gonna wanna look at me."

Starr put her sunglasses on and looked up.

The man stared at her, like she was weird, and then proceeded to use his hands to point and charade.

She tried to pay the man with the little prepaid card she'd picked up before she left the United States. After all, she was only seventeen.

Not that she could get a credit card even if she was older, for most of the banks in the world still weren't working. This meant the half million dollars she owned was stuck. As it was, the money she had, she'd stolen from the penthouse of a rich dead man in NYC.

"We don't take that. We're just a small establishment."

"Well, I'm sorry," she said annoyed. "I only have U.S. dollars."

She slapped a ten dollar bill onto the counter.

The man bitched about her to his buddy in some language.

As a vampire, her kind inherited a certain form of telepathy; one that enabled them to understand people who spoke other languages. Unfortunately, that didn't mean they knew how to respond.

Starr was too tired to care, anyway.

Just as she was about to walk out of the door, the man said to her, "Hey, Miss! This won't cover the exchange fees. We need another five."

But Starr could tell the man was manipulating her. He was simply annoyed at having to deal with a foreigner. However, Starr was in no mood to humor him. In fact, when she was groggy and tired, she, her self, became feistier.

She turned around and said, "You think I don't know that you're messing with me. You don't need another five dollars, and you're certainly not gonna get it. But, if you'd like, you can come and try."

"You watch your mouth, Miss, or I just might," the man said, as he threw his pencil down on the counter.

"Come on, then!" she said, beckoning him with her fingers. "I've had a crappy past couple of days. Kicking your ass might just be the sort of release I need."

When he just stood there, silently, she shrugged her shoulders and opened the door.

"Don't come back," he shouted.

She turned her head back and said, "Don't tell me what to do."

As she made to exit the bar, a man in a grey baseball cap said, "Hello, Miss."

Starr ignored him and walked on.

She stood for a moment and stared over the miles of snowy plain. The sun glared down, crisply, making her skin tingle.

Normally, she was okay in the city or at the Lake. The sun didn't bother her, much, there; perhaps because of all the shadows of the buildings, trees, and mountains that obscured the sun's direct rays.

When it did bother her, a little sunscreen was all she needed, but ever since she'd arrived in Scandinavia, like a 3rd degree burn, her skin constantly, painfully, tingled.

The fables would have you believe that vampires just simply went poof because of ultra violet, but it wasn't so. When one dies, so does the body's natural ability to produce secretions.

It was the skin's production of natural vitamins', melanin and sweat that kept the living protected, and when they died, so did those defenses which took eons to evolve.

She pulled a small bottle from her pocket and smeared the sun protectant all over her face, neck and hands.

Starr walked left, down the road. Several trucks drove by, blowing up brown slushy-snow around her.

She turned left at the sign and walked under a short over pass.

The small hotel was a few miles down, in the center of a tiny strip. It was wedged between another restaurant and a large building.

Behind the hotel counter, a white haired lady checked her in without much fuss.

She set her bag on the lumpy bed. Immediately, she pulled her clothes off and hung them about the room to dry.

Into the hot shower she went. Her muscles and joints relaxed and expanded as they thawed.

As she toweled her skin dry, she couldn't help but notice the way her eyes showed up on the cloudy mirror, when even her blue-black hair couldn't hold up against the steam.

The redness was the result of the Primordial blood she drank, several months ago. That was the reason she kept her glasses on at all times.

She did try contact lenses, but flying through the air at those temperatures kept freezing them. Several times, she'd already peel them from her eye ball, as they broke down into little tiny shards in her socket.

Eagerly, she climbed onto the bed and dug in her bag.

Her cell phone still didn't get reception there. It was nice to know that there were still places in the world not connected to the so-called grid. She just hoped the kids, and her friends, were okay.

She flipped on the television. Not that there were any good channels that far away from major cities; just a few news and information channels. Sometimes, there were shows from other parts of Europe though.

She settled back on the mattress and closed her eyes.
Cry Out
Chapter 2

For months, she'd been getting these visions, but she didn't know what to make of them. The only thing she was certain of was Credenza needed to be stopped.

This was also the reason she'd set out to find Valhol, and hence Lucenzo. He was the only person who would answer her questions, like if Credenza really was the one behind the attempted vampire apocalypse? Or if she really told Lucenzo to move into the clinic so as to keep tabs on her?

She sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her aching head.

Normally, visions weren't painful. Plenty of vampires had them, but this was different. This was a psychic cry out; a connection to all the unliving: It was a warning of danger.

That night, her vision was of some town in Italy.

Credenza meandered through the streets of an entirely vampire town. People dropped dead, one by one, as she walked by.

She's coming! was the message, over and over, through the psychic wave lengths.

Vampires were scared, and they were going into hiding anywhere they could. Shane, Marla, and Mica – her best friends and fellow vampires, begged her not to leave the Lake.

She did anyway, because she was the only one who could possibly stop Credenza. Sestin knew that when he chose her to end his life, and take his power into herself.

Besides, Starr was certain that Credenza wouldn't go after her friends, or, at least, not yet.

In her mind, she saw Credenza walking through a dark neighborhood. Her amber eyes danced in the light of the fires that people had set, in the streets, in their attempts to kill her.

She was too strong to be contained. Like walking through a sand storm, she simply covered her face with her hands, as she walked through rings of fire.

Wondering if any of this had hit the news, she turned the television back on.

The only newscast was a woman in a bright white shirt, who talked of some up and coming Danish holiday.

Starr flinched.

Did she just say Danish?

After months of so much flying around, and following the scent of Valhol, she began to forget to keep track of the countries she'd landed in, from day to day.

Not once, did Starr consider that she should have searched Denmark. She just assumed Valhol was further north.

She picked up her room phone and dialed Shane's cell number.

"Hey, Starr," answered Becky, a girl they rescued from the street, back in NYC. "Let me get Shane. She's been wanting to talk to you; she's been really upset."

A moment later, her voice came on. She said, "Hey, how are you?"

"I had another vision. Hundreds more are dead. Did you see it?"

"We all saw it. Marla is doing okay, but Mica is another story. Hearing the cries of dying vampires, day and night, isn't doing her any good. She's locked herself in her room, and won't come out."

Upon being turned, a person experienced an increase in their natural abilities. For Mica, this meant a supernatural ability to hear things from far away.

"When are you coming home?" she asked. "We're scared."

"I know, but don't worry. You'll be fine. No one will touch you, I promise. Credenza's wants me to trust her, and she can't get that by killing the people closest to me."

"Where are you now?"

"Denmark, actually, that's why I'm calling. Can you put Mot on the phone? I have a question."

"Look, maybe it's time to accept that Valhalla doesn't exist."

"Put Mot on the phone, please."

A moment later, his husky voice came through the speaker.

"Yeah?"

"I have a question. It's strange, but I want you to answer anyway. What can you tell me about Valhol?"

"Well, it's the hall for warriors, but that's about all. It's just some myth about heaven."

"Hypothetically, if a person were to claim it were a lost territory, where do you think it would be?"

"Uh, everywhere, I think."

Starr was stunned for a moment.

"What?" she asked annoyed. "Look, just answer the question. I don't have time for games."

"Hello, I did answer you. It's not my fault if you've got a thick skull. That region has only recently been calm. But back then, there were a lot of changes to the Earth."

Silence ensued a moment.

Slowly, she began to understand what Mot meant. It certainly would make sense as to why she'd been following a trail that led her aimlessly everywhere.

"Okay, I get it, now. What if a person wanted to locate the largest chunk of Valhol?"

"What a ridiculous question," he said. "I don't know. You'd have to ask a historian or something."

A few hours later, she packed her bag and flew to Copenhagen.

By ten 'o' clock she touched down on the upper level of a parking garage. She walked down several flights, and then checked into the adjoining hotel.

The city was just as cold as the north, except misty with salt-tasting air.

After dropping her bag off, in the room, she chanced another pair of blue contact lenses, and then walked down to the lobby and got directions to the Royal Library.

When she first entered the Met sized building, she stood about, wondering where to start.

From the ceiling hung many signs, but unlike other countries she'd been to the last few months, she was unable to decipher these words. It was known that these languages shared their roots with English, but Danish must have had other influences over the millenniums.

Her confusion must have shown on her face, for a friendly guy in a blue suit approached.

"You're not from here, I can tell. Can I help you?" he asked in nearly perfect English.

He looked familiar to her.

"Have we met before?"

"No, I don't think so."

Briefly, she told him she was looking for maps.

She followed him to a large section of laminated rung up books.

"What kind of map are you looking for?"

Quickly, she made up a story about doing a research paper about the theoretical location of Valhol for class.

"An exchange student who doesn't speak the language? Hmm..."

He browsed up and down the aisles; Starr followed.

After a few minutes, he stopped in a section with particularly large laminations. He pulled down a green one and tilted his head, signaling her to follow him.

They walked over to a large table, where he pulled back the pages. He looked at the keys a second, and then flipped the pages a couple more times.

Finally, he said, "Ahh! So, in that time, Valhol was the center of the world – before we knew better. The peak where Valhol was located was a large part of Europe," he said as he circled a large area with his finger. "But then the Earthquakes happened, breaking off a large part of Scandinavia." He made slashing movements to the coastline of Denmark. "Some parts of it drifted and others parts crushed in together. Pieces of this place could be everywhere."

He looked up at her, and said, "Hypothetically, for your homework assignment, if I were you, I'd look more to central Europe. If it were real, most of it was on its own plate; even if it were on a fault line, it would be nearly impossible for it to divide, without a volcanic surface."
Old Acquaintances
Chapter 3

It felt much nicer to be in the lower latitude. The air was still deathly cold, there, but the sun was less direct.

She'd been circling central Europe for hours. Every inch of her skin and clothes were iced over.

When she emerged from an enormous cloud and looked down, she saw a large mountain. From far below, she sensed something or someone familiar.

Tired, she decided to take a break.

Starr landed on a low incline. In the distance, she sensed a mass amount of people. Following her instinct, she walked down the incline and around a large boulder: In the distance, a large lift carried a lot of people further up the mountain.

She looked down from where the lift came, and saw a tall dark lodge. It sat in the middle of a snowy strip.

Carefully, she walked down the jagged snowy incline.

The town was tiny. To her left, a number of homes were scattered throughout the mountainous plain. When she looked right, all she saw was miles of gray sky that seemed to touch the ground.

She stepped onto what would have been a sidewalk, if it weren't covered with a foot of snow.

Starr inhaled deeply; the air was fragrant with burning wood from various fireplaces in people's homes.

A large plow slowly rode up the street. As she looked into the shops with her mind, she saw many people. Some were buying souvenirs, while others rented snow gear and ate meals.

In a bar at the end of a street, locals smoked and drank vodka as they watched some sports program.

At the opposite end of the street, of where she stood, was a row of wood cabins. Inside, she sensed families spending time together – and even caught the faint aroma of hot chocolate being served in one of them.

She walked left, to the lodge.

As she pulled back the door, the warm air, from inside, rushed at her face, making her skin buzz.

The log walled lobby was lit with a warm yellow light. Across the room, an enormous fire crackled in a five foot high fireplace.

Scattered throughout, people read newspapers and books, as they sipped mugs of coffee and other drinks the lodge staff brought out to them. All across the walls hung horned animal heads and family portraits of the locals.

Deciding she liked the feel of the cozy mountain town, she decided to stay the night.

The room re emanated the spirit of the rest of the lodge. With log walls and a deer head mounted above the head of the firm, comforted bed.

She dropped her bag on the bed, pulled out a change of clothes, and then returned to the lobby.

Starr smelled food coming from the back. She followed the scent and found herself in the lodge restaurant.

Inside, its mahogany walls were dimly lit by soft lamp lights. She picked the emptiest section of the bar, and ordered a chicken soup and a coffee.

The warmth, after being in the stone cold all morning, made her extremely drowsy. Her cold hands throbbed as she wrapped them around the hot mug, and lifted it to her mouth.

Just when she thought she'd fall asleep while sitting up, someone came and plopped down next to her.

"Starr! I saw you walk in."

With heavy eyes, she looked right, and said, "Emil? What are you doing here?"

"Me? I live here. What are you doing here," he asked with a smile.

"Wow. Uh, to be honest, I don't know." She leant over and whispered, "I was flying and the cold was getting to me, so I decided to stop for the night."

He lifted his chin and mouthed the word 'Oh,' silently.

"You're in Grindewald, my hometown in Switzerland. Remember? I invited you. Now, I'm sad because I thought maybe you were here to see me."

Starr didn't know what to say. She sensed something familiar about the place; it must have been him.

"Why do you wear sunglasses inside?" he asked. "It's so rude."

Her eyes still very cold, she hadn't bothered with a new pair of contacts. She leant over, again, and looked at him over the top of her glasses.

"V'hat happened to your eyes?" he asked.

When she wouldn't say, he urged her to sit in a booth, where they could talk privately. Once seated, she told him, briefly, about Sestin and her mission to find Valhol.

"So, what now?"

"Well, I gotta keep looking. I just know that I need to find it. It's what Lucenzo is trying to tell me," she stood and stretched. "Well, I'm gonna call it an evening. I'm gonna head out early tomorrow."

"Well, no! You just got here," he said in a higher pitched voice. "Tomorrow night is my family's annual snow barge. You must stay; it will be fun."

Although she knew she should have refused, she really wanted a break from the cold.

The next morning, Starr's inner animal woke her with a light growl. It had been a couple of days since she'd had blood.

Trying to ignore her red thirst, she made her way down to the restaurant for eggs and coffee.

It wasn't long before Emil joined her.

"I was wondering when you'd get up. I think I will take you to the mountain today."

Then a small lady approached the table.

"Starr, this is my mother."

"Hi, it is so nice to meet you," she said with a smile.

Then she turned to Emil and said, "I'm gonna need you at the restaurant today by 2 p.m. Ralf has gone home for a week."

"Okay, Mom."

"Does your family know about you?"

"No, of course not."

"I'm thirsty. Any good places to hunt?"

After breakfast, Emil took Starr to the garage located in the back, where the lodge's snow mobiles were parked. He took her past the locals homes, and down the other side of the mountain until they reached a large forest.

"Now, this forest is enormous. You should keep your eyes and ears peeled at all times. Even with our extreme abilities to perceive, a bear, or even a pack of wolves, might sneak up on us and takes us by surprise. All it takes is one chance to rip out your throat, and you're down. It happened to a buddy of mine, and he was even older and stronger than I, but the wolves still managed to carry him off. By the time I found him, they'd separated his arms, and were eating him alive. We didn't know if vampirism can transfer to animals, so we had to track them down and kill them all."

They stepped off the snow mobile and walked into the barrage of trees.

Although she could see nothing, for miles, she heard things in the trees. Winter birds and some squirrels, and other little animals that stayed awake through the year.

But she was hungrier than that. She wanted something bigger.

She stopped for a moment and deeply inhaled the air. Emil was right; there were real predators in the forest.

This was gonna be fun, she thought.

After half an hour of roaming, they spotted foot prints in the snow.

Emil recognized them, immediately.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Pack of wolves."

"That'll do: One for you, one for me."

"Yes, just be careful and quick about it. Grab the animal of your choosing, and then run. The others won't come after you: It's in their instinct to let the weak fall."

They followed the trail for another half hour. Finally, they happened on a bald spot where they spotted the wolves nestled in with one another; trying to keep warm.

"How do we do this? Surely, they'll see us and take off."

"Starr, are we vampires or what? Do you think they can outrun us?"

They counted to three and then bolted into the clearing. The wolves looked up, and then turned and ran.

Starr and Emil chased them into the other side of the forest.

Emil was surprisingly fast, so were the wolves. She knew they were faster than humans, but never expected they could still outrun her as a vampire.

He was catching up to the pack. He leapt forward and grabbed a bushy gray one by the tail. It yelped as it rolled over, and then tried to run but couldn't.

Emil dragged it back, jumped on top of it and broke its neck.

Starr kept going until she caught up to the brown one that ran beside Emil's wolf.

For a moment, she hesitated wondering how she was going to do this. She didn't want to jump on her front and land in the snow just to catch its tail. What if she missed?

So she jumped onto its bushy back, causing the animal to buck, but she wrapped her arms around its neck and held on tight.

Instantly, she regretted this move, for the animal kept running, as though she weighed nothing.

Starr clamped her muscles down hard, making it difficult for the wolf to keep up with the others.

When it realized it was losing the pack, it turned and attacked her, sinking its teeth into her cheek and forehead, making her scream out.

Blood ran into her eyes, blinding her.

The wolf lunged for her throat.

Starr released its neck, and closed her hands around its muzzle, forcing its jaw to clamp shut.

A second later, Emil jumped on the wolf and wrangled it to the side, long enough for Starr to roll over on her fours and drain it.

After, they looked at each other and laughed.

"Oh, Starr. Your face is so messed up. We should just stay here and wait for it to heal. Oh, wow," he said, wiping tears from his face. "You've obviously never done any real hunting."

"I have, too!" she laughed. "I've caught plenty of deer."

"That's all fine, but, out here, you take what you can get, and especially at this time of year. You might not see a deer for many miles. Our forests aren't small, like the U.S. which are nearly depleted, rumor has it."

"Not all forests are chopped down; we got a few."

As they laughed and talked, they dragged their wolves to a boulder where they sat down, skinned and gutted them.

"MMMmmm...," Starr said, as took an apple sized bite of her wolf's warm liver.

"My favorite part, too. It is good, ja?"

"Ja!" she said.

When Emil declared her face as presentable, they tied their wolf furs to the snow mobile and rode back to the lodge.

Starr wanted to wander in and out of the shops, but Emil dragged her to the local tannery to get their furs treated, and then to the rental shop where Emil insisted she get a snow suit and snow board.

That afternoon, they took the lift further up the mountain.

As they jumped off, Starr felt heart pound, as if it suddenly came to life.

"Did you feel that?"

"What?"

"I don't know."

She did a 180 turn, and saw an enormous mountain with a peak that disappeared into the clouds.

"I feel something about that peak."

"Please, Starr, you're not gonna find Valhol here. We're hardly central Europe."

"What?" she asked incredulously. "I thought the Swiss embraced the idea of a 'central' identity?"

"Starr, it's nothing about labels. Valhol is a myth. You need to go home and be with your friends; they need you to protect them."

"Emil, I appreciate your concern, but I know what I'm doing. Besides, who else is gonna stop Credenza? By doing this, I am protecting them."

"Let somebody else take her on."

"Emil, sooner or later, she'll be coming for me. I need to be prepared. The way to do that is to get to Valhol."

Distastefully, he shook his head and looked away.

Starr said nothing, but made a mental note to come back and inspect the mysterious mountain.

Starr found that she disliked snowboarding. No matter what he tried to teach her, she continued to fall without reprieve, leaving her legs bruised up, and ripping a hole in her rented snow suit.

When noon came, he excused himself for a shower, a change, and lunch before his shift at his family restaurant. Before he left, he made Starr promise to meet him on the street barge at 11 p.m.

After he left, Starr shed her gear and flew to the peak. Up and up she tried to go, but the peak seemed to go so high that the pressure of the atmosphere felt like it was crushing down on her chest.

But how was that possible? She'd flown even higher than that, before.

Miffed and confused, she stood at the base of the mountain, looking up. Her dead heart leapt several times. She grabbed gasped and grabbed her chest.

Somehow, her body was telling her that there was something different about that mountain.

Like a hover craft, she levitated further up the mountain base, keeping close to the ground. This way, the weight of the atmosphere didn't crush down as painfully.

The higher she got, the quicker her heart pounded.

This was it; it had to be, she said to herself.

By early evening, she'd made far above the township of Grindewald. She knew she needed to go back and get ready for the party. This disappointed her. Still, she felt exhilarated, for the first time in months.

Starr flew back to Grindewald, landing just behind some trees that obscured her descent. Then she walked back to the lodge, and then back to her room to get ready for the party.

About nine 'o' clock, she started drifting off to sleep, so she decided to check out the barge early.

For a moment, she got the feeling that someone was following her. She stopped and turned around.

She looked up and down both ends of the street.

"Hello?"

When no one responded, she continued through the town. Starr wasn't the best telepath, but she wasn't fooled, either. She knew it was likely that her trip might cause unwanted attention, and even dislike. It was common knowledge that the Primordials didn't want people to find them, let alone common vampires.

"I know why you're following me," she said to the air. "You just try and stop me. You just try..."

In the town center, in the middle of the street was 100 foot long barge. People milled in and around it.

On a high table on the stern, a d.j. was playing old music, and many of the older crowd danced and sung around him.

"Starr," called a small woman in a pink jacket. She waved, walked down the steps of the barge, and ran up to her.

"Hi, I'm Anna; I'm Emil's cousin. He told me to look after you until he gets here," she said with a wide smile.

In the center of the barge was a couple of bar men who kept stemmed shot glasses full of schnapps. Every few minutes, one of the men would yell something in Danish, the crowd would shout back, and they'd down the drink.

Anna grabbed her hand, dragged up into the barge and pressed one of the glasses into her hand.

"Skoal," she shouted.

Anna raised the glass to Starr; she rose her glass back and they, both, shot it down.

After they'd done, trays of food went around.

"Are you and Emil dating?"

"No," she said. "We're just friends, I think."

"What are you doing here, then? You didn't bring any gear, so you must not be here to ski."

"No," she said, wondering what kind of lie she should make up.

Fortunately, she was saved the trouble. Two men came up and interrupted them.

"Hi, I'm Tom," said the guy with a white snow beanie. "This is my buddy, Brad," he gestured to his buddy in the enormous blue jacket. "Would you, two, like to dance?"

They moved to the stern of the bow. Starr felt a little lost when dancing to the old timers music.

She was relieved when the music picked up tempo. Many of the old people moved off the barge.

When eleven approached, Starr looked up the road and saw Emil approaching the barge.

He took a few shots of schnapps, and said hello to his friends, before approaching Starr.

Immediately, he pulled her to the stern, into a close dance. Her heart sped when he put his arms around her waist and look into her eyes.

The last time they looked at each other like that was in New York. He'd nearly saved her life, twice.

"Why did you never call me?"

"I was busy. Plus, I didn't want to get mixed up in Council business."

"Well, I wish you would have."

"I figured you'd be off with the Fleet, exterminating vampires."

"Well, I was, for a while. Then I decided to take some time and visit my family. This is my favorite time of year, here."

She laid her head on his shoulder.

"I'm so glad to see you," he said.

He ran his hand up to the back of her neck. The touch of his fingers sent a chill down her back.

"There was something I wanted to tell you, last time we were together."

"What?"

"This," he said, and leaned in and kissed her.

Blood rushed to her head.

He pulled her in, closer, and kissed her more deeply. His tongue was soft and warm, and a hint of blood.

"Sorry, that was the rabbit I drained earlier."

Suddenly, the barge vibrated as all his mates ran around stomping, shouting and singing in Swiss-German.

They shoved glasses of schnapps in their hands, and toasted to the witching hour.

That night, he walked her back to the lodge.

"Stop," he said.

She looked at him, looking around.

"You sense someone, too?"

Slowly, he turned around, looking at the sky and the buildings.

"Are you being followed?"

"I don't know. After you left, I inspected part of the mountain. Since then, it feels like someone is behind me."

"Come out, now!" he said.

When nothing happened, he put his around her shoulders and guided her toward the lodge.

The next morning, Emil knocked on her door.

She invited him.

"Where are you going, now?"

"To the mountain, of course."

"Don't you want breakfast?"

"Emil, this is important. Why do I feel like you're trying to dissuade me for reasons other than my safety?"

"Starr, I don't want you to get hurt."

When she refused to go home, he said, "Fine, but I'm coming with you."
Flight Condemned
Chapter 4

For hours, Starr held Emil's hand as she circled the mountain. He was still a young fledgling; he hadn't come into flying yet.

By the early evening, Starr had had enough.

She couldn't sense anything about the peak, from the air. She didn't know if it was the cold, distracting her animal instinct, but she hadn't a clue of which direction to fly. Heck, she didn't even know if they were on the right side of the mountain.

It became apparent that she couldn't make the journey by flight instinct alone.

Finally, she lowered them onto a peak that was many thousands of feet higher than Grindewald. Emil tried to talk her into going back to the lodge to rest, but she couldn't stop.

She trudged up the peak, facing the daggers of wind and snow that tried to blow them back down the mountain.

They hiked well into the night; Emil complained nearly the entire way.

Starr wasn't ready to camp until midnight. They'd reached a leveled off inclined with a rock cliff that provided shelter from the down draft.

Emil hunkered down with his back against the rock while Starr flew off and gathered some wood that was, amazingly, pretty dry.

Staring at it and concentrating, she ignited a small fire.

As she zoned out, looking into the flames, she felt distracted. She looked around, again.

Emil stood up and shouted, "Who are you? Come out, now!"

But no one answered.

"The fire isn't doing any good. My muscles are so stiff."

"Look, if you want to go back, then fine, but I can't take you. I need to keep going."

"And let you alone out here? What kind of guy would I be?"

They agreed to take turns sleeping. Emil had pointed out that if they both did so at the same time – and they froze like ice cubes, they might not wake up until spring.

The sound of breaking limbs woke Starr, the next morning.

Emil had gathered more wood and was breaking it down and shoving it into his backpack.

Immediately, they set to hiking up the mountain again.

After about an hour, they came upon an icy slope. Starr was about to lean forward, and climb up on all fours, but Emil stopped her.

"What is it?"

"This slope is an avalanche waiting to happen," he said sounding annoyed.

She grabbed his hand and levitated them up, past the ice and landed on another peak.

At that point, the temperatures really dropped, and their limbs became especially stiff. Each step took great effort, and each step required yanking their legs out of the snow, which only exhausted more of their energy.

Only stopping for a break, they continued on and on, miserably.

At the top of another incline, they looked down, and it was just like out of book or movie. They were thousands and thousands of feet above the biosphere, where most people lived.

It was a breathtaking view.

That night as they sat close to another fire, they heard a loud Earth shattering crunch that echoed all around them, vibrating through Starr's very bones.

Emil stood up fast, a look of distorted fear on his face.

"Come on, let's go! Get us out of here!"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her up.

"FLY!!!! NOW!!!"

"What, why? I'm tired!"

But her moment of hesitation cost them both.

The mountain rumbled, and the snow came down on them.

Before she knew it, she was tumbling back down the mountain.

She felt herself zoom off a cliff, and free fall for many feet, before crunching into the ground.

Pounds of snow crunched her into the snow-ground, packing and burying her in, deeply.

She screamed through her teeth, the weight crushed down on her body, making it stiff and shrivel.

Starr cried and prayed that it would stop. But more and more snow weighted her down.

When it finally stopped, she tried to move but couldn't.

She couldn't even open her mouth to scream.

Starr tried to command the snow to move outward and off her. Unfortunately, she was always a terrible telepath and telekinetic.

Again, she felt the strange presence of someone nearby. She cried for the person to help her, but whoever it was simply went away.

Starr cried herself to sleep.

Vision
Chapter 5

"No," she cried out, but he was there, forcing her to see him.

Lucenzo sat on the cozy pouf with his long red hair and blazing eyes. As usual, he was stuck in the room with the gold prison bars.

"Stop resisting me, Starr. You've only a little time left."

"For what?"

"To save yourself."

"No, I'm done! I'm buried in an avalanche."

"Who do you think is responsible for that?"

When she gasped, he said, "Louisa is coming for you, soon."

He stood up and walked to his tiny cell window and looked out at the sky.

"Now that you're closer to connect with me, I will tell you everything."

He turned around with a look of contemplation on his face.

"We haven't much time, so I'm gonna tell it to you quickly. Ask me no questions, and do not interrupt me.

The Primordial blood, or vampire virus to you, was spread to mortals because they were dying out.

After the first couple conversions of humans to vampires were made, it was obvious that it was killing them, and turning them into something else.

They wanted to experiment. So they brought humans in by the hundreds. They'd put them down here, in these very dungeons.

Some, they'd try to convert without the nasty side effects of needing to drink blood. Needless to say, it didn't work.

We are two different species. We can't breed with humans, and we cannot share blood. Only a few people were able to conceive, together, but it is unlikely that such connections will ever happen again.

After a while, they gave up. They were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, and accept blood drinking half breeds into their families. They were immortals and would take with them the traditions of their people, never to be forgotten.

But, then, one day an old scientist of the order by the name of Stelar made a prediction."

Starr remembered Stelar; he converted Sestin.

"He predicted that one day, the vampires would figure out how to put the soul back in the vampire. When that day came, a new and most powerful species, the world will ever see, will arise. The soul is pure energy, and it will make the common vampire more powerful than the oldest Primordial, and more powerful than any soulless vampire.

Credenza, who is one such rare connection, half human-half Primordial, was born with a soul.

Until you came along, she was getting closer to figuring out how to get it back."

Abruptly, he stopped speaking. With a quizzical look on his face, he tilted his head as if he were listening out for something.

Starr was impatient. She didn't want him to stop talking.

She said, "I still don't understand what this has to do with me."

He looked at her.

"There is one thing; one person preventing her from reaching her goals: you. Once she has her plans in place, she's coming for you. You are the last piece that she needs, to bring back her soul from the beyond."

He stood up, quickly.

"Someone's coming; I have to go."

"Wait, but why me?"

"Because you're connected. The soul is..." but then he trailed off.

"Wait!" she screamed.

All went black; he'd pushed her consciousness out of his mind. She tried to get back in but couldn't.

Her consciousness was pushed out of the room, and toward the city walls of Valhol.

As she was flying back, she saw Credenza, as she'd seen so many times that summer, running through the streets of the cobble stoned city.

Somehow, she thought she'd wake up under the cold snow, but, instead, a feeling came over her.

It was fear, so great and crippling.

She was soaring through the air. She smelled salt and ocean.

Then she saw Lake George. She flew into the house.

Shane and Marla were lying on a bed in her room. Shane had her arm wrapped around her waist, and was trying to comfort her.

They knew, thought Starr.

Somehow, they found out Starr had been buried in the snow.

But, how?

Someone had to have told them, because it wasn't possible for Shane or Marla to tap into psychic waves from so far.

Marla was crying uncontrollably.

"Don't worry," Shane said. "Everything will be fine."

Suddenly, she shot up, looking around the room.

Can she feel me? Starr asked herself.

But then Starr was distracted.

She floated into Mica's room where loud music was playing. Humming loudly, she danced about the room with her hands on her ears, and her eyes shut tight.

Starr heard the voices in Mica's head.

A few towns over, a man screamed to someone that they needed to go, now, if they wanted to survive.

In another, a group of vampires were discussing the number of estimated vampire deaths in Europe.

And yet, in many homes across the state, she heard people crying, and talking in panic.

Starr couldn't stand it, in Mica's consciousness, so she returned to her body.

Under the White
Chapter 6

She woke but still couldn't open her eyes, or move her limbs.

Tears leaked out of the sides of her eyes.

How am I gonna get out of here?

From above, she sensed the presence that she felt, earlier, lurking.

Whoever it was, was standing right above her. It occurred to Starr that it could have been Credenza.

The presence flew off, leaving her there under the icy snow.

More tears leaked from her eyes, making the snow seal to her face.

She started to get sleepy, once more. Slowly, all went black.

LYSSA

VAMPIN Book Series #13

By Jamie Ott
Copyright   2011 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used without written permission.

Publication Date: 7/21/2012

For all inquiries, please contact passionateprose@mail.com.
Warrior Princess
Chapter 1

The King walked down the line, saying his goodbyes to everyone. When he got to Lyssa, he reminded her, for the thousandth time, to stay out of the armory because it was no place for a young woman.

Everyone pretended not to know that she was his daughter. The King said it was for her protection, but she knew it was really because of Andrada.

She hated Lyssa.

Every chance she could, she'd hound the King about sending her away. But the King loved Lyssa's mother more than he'd ever loved a mortal woman. That's why he honored his promise by making Lyssa a Lady of the house.

"Be good, Lyssa," the King said.

He embraced her, and then kissed her cheek. Leaning in just slightly, he whispered, "I love you, my goddess. You're more precious than gold."

He kissed her one more time.

Lyssa didn't want to look at him. She was mad because he never listened to her. But she turned her eyes up from the gravel, anyway.

"I love you, too," she said.

He heaved up onto his horse.

They watched as he and his officers made their way down the palace's windy mountain road.

Lyssa turned to go inside, but not before catching the gaze of her stepmother and her half brother, Celius.

Murderous.

They had no reason to look so. Every king in history had his concubines. Since illegitimate children had no claim to the kingdom, neither Lyssa nor her other half-brother, Dracus, was a threat.

He leaned his arm around her shoulder, and they walked back inside the palace.

"Did you talk to him?" Dracus asked.

"Yes, and he hardly believed me when I told him about the letter Andrada received from Imperator Trajan. He said he talked to her, but I'm sure she put on her sweet, fetching smile," she replied.

They walked over the threshold and down the hall to the library.

"Father was always blind to women, thinking they're unintelligent creatures. 'But what about Cleopatra?' I asked. 'A harlot queen,' he says. She never could've ruled Egypt without Julius or Mark."

"Dracus, do not call him Father," she said, sitting in her cathedra.

"Why not? We're alone."

He walked across the room to the clay jug and poured himself some mead.

"Because if you slip, like I did by calling him father in front of the senators, he'll have you put in the carceral."

Ignoring her, he said, "Come on, Lys," as he sometimes called her for short. "Let's practice making petards."

"The King says if I'm caught in the armory once more, I'm to be barred in my room."

"You mustn't listen. The Romans will be coming for us, sooner or later.

You have to understand that though Father is a fairly good man, he has an extremely large ego.

Since he was born, he's been told that he's next to godliness. Because he can't let go of these silly ideologies, the Romans will take him.

Now, maybe we'll be lucky because hardly anyone knows who we are, but we need to be prepared to fight our way out of the castle. Just in case something should happen to me, you need to be prepared to fight alone."

"What makes you think the Romans will come again?"

"Rome wants there to be no more kings. Now the only reason they've allowed our father to remain is because of Andrada's persuasion, and Father's promised new allegiance to Rome. That's soon to change, as pressure from Rome to take Dacia increases, and especially as Father won't renounce his title. Taking this rich land, and Andrada for his concubine, will be another honor for him."

"The King will fight them off. He's done it before, and he'll do it again."

"All lies, Lyssa. I was there when we fought. He tells the people we won the battles to keep up morale, the support of the people and the army, but Rome could have taken us anytime.

Father, with his pride, rather than conform to the ways of Rome for the sake of his people, must show off, must be sovereign. He won't accept that he is no longer a king, and that is why they will come for him," he sighed. "Once Imperator Trajan comes, all Andrada will have to do is point her finger, and we're dead."

~~~

Later that night, she took dinner alone in her room on the hearth.

Her quarters were bland. A couple hanging tapestries covered the wood walls. In the center was a canopied wooden bed with stuffed and sewn up cloths.

Over mulled wine and sheep's stomach with honey and cheese, she imagined what would become of her beloved Sarmizegetusa.

The Romans had a history of destroying capital cities, with especial ill regard to temples and universities, often burning them to the ground. Great countries had already lost so much history and learning. The thought of such things happening to her city made her sick.

She sipped her wine and sighed.

The fire crackled.

Her brother was right, she said to herself. Although King Decebalus didn't believe it, his time would come to an end.

Lyssa wondered what her future would be.

Where would she go when the time came? Would she end up a peasant, a servant, or a slave?

What if she decided not to flee the palace? Would she be beaten, dragged through the city and executed?

Bastard or no, it wasn't common practice that any living descendants of a king should survive, lest he should declare himself King and exact his revenge when the conqueror least expected.

Dracus promised he'd always come for her; that she was all the family he had. But Lyssa knew that he was a terrible combatant. Even when the King sent him to the infantry, he'd likely be a councilman.

"So that's it," she said to herself. "I must leave before they come."

The sound of the palace gates being drawn distracted her from her thoughts.

She set her bread down and walked to the open shutter.

Her brother's shield bounced a ray of moonlight into her eye, as he rode down the mountain.

Every time he left, she got scared. One day, if the Romans didn't come soon, she'd be gone by the time he got back. Her stepmother would see to it.

She went to her special hiding place behind her favorite red tapestry.

Lyssa drew back the canvas and wiggled out the 10x4 inch piece of wood. Inside laid her favorite knife, a baselard, and the morning star her brother forged for her.

The baselard was sheathed by a scabbard that Lyssa had sewn into a set of straps. She rolled up her sleeve and tied the straps around her arm.

When the blade was secured, she grabbed the morning star and replaced the wood.

Lyssa returned to the fire and resumed her dining.

When alone in the palace with her stepmother and Celius, it was a wise practice to keep some weapons close. Lyssa was stronger than most humans, but she could still be overcome in numbers.

Dracus made the morning star especially for her. It was a small spiked metal ball with a chain that was attached to a foot long wood handle. He reinforced the handle with a sheet of metal.

One thing her brother was superb at was making weapons and glass jewelry. The King said it was beneath him, however, and banned him from returning to the smiths.

Lyssa was irritated because Dracus was going to visit his mistress.

He knew she hated it when he left her alone, especially when the King was gone. It was at those times she felt most vulnerable.

"Lyssa," he told her, once. "Andrada will only be coming for you when no one is around, and when you are vulnerable," he stressed. "She'll always be waiting, and you must always be ready."

He was right, but his frequent absences could give Andrada an opportunity to get rid of her sooner rather than later.

Lyssa wasn't ready to leave the palace, yet. She wanted to stay as long as possible. And it wasn't just the fear of going out, alone, in the world as a peasant that held her back, but it was the idea of never seeing her father or brother again. Even if the King was in denial, all of their lives had an expiration that was nearing.

Simply, Lyssa loved her brother and father. She wanted to make the most of the time they had left, together.

~~~

That night, when Lyssa settled into bed, she followed the procedure advised by her brother. She left two candles burning, put a pair of sandals by her bed, and hid her weapons under her pillow. If the castle were to be stormed, she'd be ready to go.

Every so often, she was stirred by a murmur or vibration within the walls.

Just as she started to nod off, the feel of many people running in the castle vibrated up through the floor boards.

Lyssa got out of bed and gently pulled back the wood pivoted blockade.

Her stepmother's servant was arguing with her governess.

Suddenly, the whispering stopped. She heard a sharp intake of breath, and something fell to the floor.

Lyssa pulled back the blockade a bit more, and looked out to see what made the noise.

Her governess was lying on the floor, clutching her abdomen.

She screamed, "Lyssaaa! They're coming, run!"

Lyssa slammed the blockade shut.

Lying against the wall was a 6x6x6 inch wood bar. She slid it into the metal rests that were grooved into the door and the wall.

Her step mother's servant rammed the door.

She ran to her bed, slipped on her sandals and grabbed her morning star.

The bottom half of the door broke in.

The servant, and a man she'd never seen before, ducked under the wood bar.

She spun gracefully as she swung the spiked ball into the man's face, spattering blood all over the servant's night dress.

The servant screamed.

More footsteps vibrated up through the wood floor.

Lyssa pulled back the red tapestry of flowers, and kicked in the wall, behind which her brother had a secret waiter installed.

She tried not to scream, as she plummeted four floors down.

A moment later, she hit the underground floor.

Just like Dracus told her, there were little ridges in the ground that glowed with the remnants of eel blood.

She followed the ridges to the wall.

Lyssa drew back her fist and punched in the wood. Then she yanked back the planks so that she could squeeze in.

Inside, her brother had a special set of wooden espadrilles, which she tied around her ankles and then ran down the wall.

Desperately, she tried to hold her breath as much as possible, for the stench of urine and rot was horrible.

She couldn't see a thing, except for traces of eel blood painted on the wood walls.

The ground continued to grade down. She stumbled a couple of times.

Five hundred feet later, she sighed with relief because the ground had leveled off, meaning that she was at the bottom of the mountain and was traveling through the tunnel.

Right up ahead, a tiny white light could be seen.

Fresh air breezed past her.

Happiness welled up inside her.

Once emerged out of the hole, she ran as fast as she could. With the moon full, and no trees or plants to obscure her for 200 more feet, she could still be seen by those on the mountain.

A few moments later, she made it through the small clearing, into the trees. She chanced a backward glance.

Along the castle wall, lamps had been lit. There was a shadow moving down the mountain road.

Just like her brother said, he'd left a trail for her. It was a bunch of white stones that, at first glance, seemed to zig zag ahead of her. When she looked at the white rocks as a whole, she could tell they all went in one direction: North.

She followed the trail to a tree where she dug up the Earth.

Buried there was a large box.

Inside, there was a plain purple dress and a purse with enough gold and silver coins for Lyssa to live well for many years. Beside it laid her brother's miniature crossbow – perfect for catching small prey, and a bag of the smallest arrows she'd ever seen.

Quickly, she changed and disappeared further into the forest.
Romani Circle
Chapter 2

Lyssa walked until the moon and the sun faced each other from opposite sides of the sky.

Once more, she looked at the map her brother left for her.

Lyssa was never good at interpreting handwritten landscapes. Her brother told her that if she got confused, to follow the seven stars until the sun rose. Then walk with her back to the sun.

Now that the sun was rising, and the morning star glittered through the trees, it was time to go west.

She wished he would have told her how far she'd need to go because she was really starting to get hungry.

A few miles later, she approached a clearing where a road had recently been traveled.

Lyssa knelt and looked at the grooves of the tracks. The patterns suggested that more people went left, than right.

So which way should she go?

If she went left, she could find a city where people were looking for her. To go right might mean she'd be on the road for some time, and would have to hunt for food.

After a few moments contemplation, she went left.

Several hours later, a village that she didn't recognize came into view.

The road led her straight through a marketplace. On the left and right sides, farmers and smiths had their stands up and were selling goods.

She pulled a small silver piece from her bosom, and bought a small loaf of bread. Up ahead, the road lead to a line of people waiting with buckets at a well.

People paid her no mind as she got in line to drink and wet her face.

She continued along the road until the end of the town.

Not sure of what to do, she sat on the edge of the road to think.

A very dark and scruffy looking man, wearing a schenti, sidled over to her. His face was fallen into folds, and gray heavily bespeckled his beard.

"You look lost, miss," he said nicely.

"I'm fine."

"Shouldn't you have a guardian?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, a lady never goes out alone."

"Please, go."

But the man ignored her.

"Are you running away from home, miss?"

She said nothing.

"I've known many noblemen, in my time. They keep their children locked away, or on very short chains. Eventually, they all want to see the world. Parents just don't understand that children need to experience things, too."

The man sat down next to her in the dirt.

On his shoulder, he carried a bag. He pulled the cork from it and took a sip.

"Here, miss. This will make you feel better."

She took the leather bag and sipped. From it, spiced ale refreshed her.

"My name's Bali."

The man pulled a hunk of cured goat from his other bag. He sliced off a chunk and gave it to her, before helping himself.

"You know, I have seven daughters and one boy," he sighed. "I know how a woman's heart works. They never want to do what they're destined to, on this Earth. Can't say I blame them. There is so much more to life than breeding."

He smiled and turned to her.

"How would you like to see the sunset on the Nile? Or cross into Athens and meet real men of learning?" he asked, chewing down his meat.

"I suppose I'd like that," she said, taking another sip of the ale.

"You look like a woman of learning, yourself. Can you read?"

"Yes."

"So can I," he leaned in and smiled.

A cart with a mule slowly made its way up the road.

"Well, miss, it's getting hotter; high noon approaches. I must be getting back. Why don't you come with me? You obviously have no place to go. A pretty girl like you should not be alone. You can meet my daughters and the rest of my family."

Lyssa looked up at the man. He seemed harmless. Seven daughters meant he was likely not a lunatic.

She followed him further down the road.

~~~

They walked for an hour before turning into another section of forest.

High noon had come, and the heat was making her tired.

"Just a short way, miss."

Out of the trees, appeared a tall cliff that blocked out the sun, giving them shade.

Beside the cliff was a row of half a dozen wagons.

Before the wagons' was a large fire, around which a settlement of twenty or so people worked. Some of the women were sewing, while one man carved out a piece of wood.

They looked up at the sounds of their approach.

"This is Lyssa. I've invited her to stay awhile. Treat her like family," said Bali.

The men looked approvingly while the women gave her nasty looks.

"Lyssa, why don't you help Chandra with the leathers," he said, indicating a middle aged woman with frizzy hair and a dirty dress.

Lyssa went to her side and helped her sew the pieces into shoes for their kids. With her quick, strong hands, they finished the work in an hour, making the lady very happy.

"You have the hands of a lady, but they're so strong," she smiled.

The sound of children laughing made her look up.

Several men were making their way back to camp, and six children followed.

They carried lines with dozens of fish.

Chandra introduced her. They nodded their heads, silently, and went about their way.

Since there was still light in the sky, Lyssa helped a man, named Eli, with fixing several wagon wheels. He was also pleased.

"You're so small. You don't look like a good worker," he told her.

Though they were impressed with her work, they still regarded her with a cold shoulder. Only the kids seemed to take a liking to her, admiring her pretty purple dress and clean shiny, straight hair.

After a dinner of fish and wild mushrooms, one man played a little wood flute.

"Lyssa, take this," Bali said, handing her a large brown fur. "It's going to get cold."

She accepted it appreciatively, as the temperatures had already fallen. Dacia was always known for its alternating desert-like temperatures.

That night, she couldn't get to sleep at all. The ground was too hard and the cold chilled right through her fur. She couldn't stop shivering long enough to relax.

She turned over and saw Bali and Eli walk into the trees. They both glanced at her.

Something about the way they looked at her made her uneasy. She shook it off, and rolled back over.

Sometime later, after finally having nodded off, a pair of rough hands grabbed her and forced her into a sitting position.

"What's going on," she asked groggily.

Someone tied her hands with rope, yanked her up off the ground and dragged her into the trees.

"Eli, what are you doing?"

A few feet ahead, Bali talked to a man in a rich purple robe with a silver sash.

His greedy eyes examined her head to foot.

"Yes, yes, I'll take her."

They bartered numbers.

Lyssa's brother had taught her how to get out of simple bindings.

Easily, she turned her wrist, and tugged the middle cord, which she twisted over, allowing her left hand just enough room to squeeze out.

Right as her wrist was freed, Eli threw a net over her.

"She got out of the bind," he said.

Lyssa place each hand on a piece of rope, right above her head, and pulled outward, ripping the net in half.

They stood, frozen with surprise a moment before reacting.

Eli grabbed her by the arms and tried to subdue her, but she slipped out, turned around and punched him to the ground.

"Get her!" shouted Bali.

Lyssa grabbed the baselard from within her sleeve.

The man in the purple robe tried to grab her by the shoulder.

She ducked, turned, and swung the knife into his spine, dropping him like dead fish.

Without a moment of hesitation, she yanked the knife out and swiped at Bali, who jumped back and pulled out a knife of his own.

They circled each other several times before the sounds of footsteps came up behind her.

"Well," said Bali. "That's twice I mistake you. You work and fight. You're not really a lady, are you?"

She didn't have time to respond. A person was right behind her.

She stepped left, turned and slammed the knife down into the young man's neck.

"That's my son!" shouted Bali, who ran at her with his knife raised.

Lyssa leapt right, and rammed her blade up into his chest.

She yanked the baselard out of his chest, wiped it on the ground and looked around.

Two others from the camp had woken. It appeared they'd been watching them for a time.

Together, they ran at her.

Two of the men came at her with swords. Lyssa bobbed and weaved right and left, as she walked backward.

When both men accidentally crossed their swords, Lyssa stabbed the one on her right, through his hand and removed his sword.

The man fell to his knees, yelling.

The other one continued to poke and jab at her. Lyssa met each attempt with her sword.

Frustrated by his inability to conquer her, he raised his sword to the sky, meaning to bring it down with all the force he could muster.

It was a mistake because Lyssa's brother taught her exactly what to do, in such a situation. He even dubbed it an easy win.

She brought the handle of the sword downward to her left as she stepped forward and left. Easily, it sliced through his midriff, as he brought down his sword with all his might, impaling his own self even further.

Lyssa drew back her sword.

The man stood in shock for a moment, and then something shiny and red poked out from his gut.

He grabbed his stomach, trying to push his entrails back in.

Lyssa took his sword and ran back to the camp with the intention of getting her things and leaving. However, the Romanis were determined to kill her.

A melee ensued that lasted a good hour, even the women tried to subdue her. Several of them died as a result.

She owed it all to her brother. Yes, she was a strong woman, but she'd never have survived if not for his pushing her to learn to handle a sword.

By the time the sun peeked down on them, only the children and six of the Romanis were left. They were too injured to fight anymore.

Lyssa shredded the net and tied them all together, even the children.

"Now that is how you tie someone up," she said.

Her brother also taught her nautical knots. One would have to saw their wrists off to get out of them.

She sat by the fire and watched them all for a moment.

The women cried about not hurting the children, and the men looked at her as though she were evil. They murmured curses at her.

Ignoring them, she laid back and fell asleep.

~~~

Sometime later, there was a stirring. She opened her eyes to find that a woman had, in fact, escaped. Her ropes had been cut.

Grinning, she went after her. It was nearly impossible for the average woman to outrun Lyssa.

She brought the woman back and tied her, face forward to the trunk, with extended hands and ankles around the tree.

Another wonderful lesson from her brother: tying one up this way was a classic method of torture. Essentially, keeping someone suspended in between a sitting and a standing position.

"After a few hours, it's almost like hanging from a cross," Dracus told her.

They watched as she picked up one of the leather straps that'd been hung out to dry.

"Tell me, how many slaves have you sold? How many young lives' have you ruined?"

She walked back and forth.

When they didn't reply, she asked, "How many beatings did you give them, before they submitted?"

When they didn't reply, she drew back her arm and brought the leather strap down, hard, into the woman's back.

She screamed at the top of her lungs. But the Romani were a cold and hardened folk. Motionless, they sat, unfazed by the woman's suffering.

"You should all rot in hell. She's one of you, and you don't care if I beat her?"

Again, silence.

Lyssa sat down at the fire and made breakfast.

She put stewed lamb chunks and mushrooms in some spiced ale and gave it to the kids.

Later that day, she went to the river and filled a couple buckets of water. When she made it back to camp, she made tea and gave the kids bread and water.

"How long are you gonna keep us tied up like this?" asked Chandra.

"I'm not sure," she said. "Right now, I just like watching you suffer. Maybe I'll keep you indefinitely."

After she'd supped, she checked their bondage and announced that she would go to town.

She grabbed her morning star, crossbow and arrows.

"If you can't escape, which I'm sure you won't," she smirked, "don't worry. I'll be back."

Lyssa wanted to find news of her father or the castle. Whoever broke into her room didn't look like a Roman soldier. For all she knew, he could have been an assassin.

If he was an assassin, she could find her father or brother, and tell them what happened. Maybe the King would get rid of Andrada, once and for all.

But if it were a Roman Soldier, staying in the forest was a bad idea.

As she got closer to the village, she became frightened. The town was deserted. Stands were upturned, fruits, bread and other items were strewn everywhere.

Blood stained the gravel.

Several men and women, and one child, lay dead in the dirt behind the stands.

The Romans must have finally come. Who else would do such things to the Dacian people? Not even her father was as cruel.

She picked up an empty sack. Lyssa picked up food and other items from the ground.

At the town well, she filled her leather bag with water and doused herself.

Lyssa knew it was a bad idea, and she was scared. But she had to know, without question, that her brother and father were either alive or dead. She would only leave her father and brother when she had absolutely no other choice.

So she followed the road back to the forest, and followed the rocks back to the palace.

~~~

It was midnight.

Once again, the lamps on the castle wall had been lit.

She set her sack and her weapons down, even the money her brother left for her because she needed to be able to move lightly.

Taking only her knife and morning star, she ran across the field as quickly as she could. Her espadrilles were still at the entrance of the tunnel.

Holding her breath, she walked against the grade. The hole she'd busted into the wall was still open.

Lyssa left the ground floor, and ran up several flights of stairs before reaching her brother's floor.

Immediately, she knew something was wrong, for his room was always blockaded at night. He did this for the same reason as she: to protect himself from Andrada.

Still, she approached the archway and inspected the room. It was empty.

The dungeons were in the back of the palace, but she needed to get to the key room first.

Up another set of stairs, and down a black as pitch hall, she went. In the room at the very back was the key room.

Carefully, Lyssa applied pressure to the door until the iron split.

The door swung back, freely.

She grabbed the enormous metal key ring, and ran back down the stairs. On the ground floor, she veered right, toward the dungeons.

They were empty.

Her heart sank.

Her father's room was on the top floor. Andrada could be there, but she had to see if her father was alive, still.

Once more, she ran up several flights of stairs. Her father's room wasn't blockaded, either.

She stopped in his archway.

On the bed, highlighted by a flickering candle, Andrada was lying next to a man. He was not her father.

Almost as if sensing her, they opened their eyes, simultaneously.

Lyssa recognized him from the statue in the town center; it was Imperator Trajan.

She walked up to them with her knife at the ready.

"Scream and it's over," she said.

"Lyssa," said Andrada. "What is this?"

"Where's my brother and father?"

"Gone, and if you had any sense, you'd have stayed gone to," she said.

Imperator made a swift movement. He sat up and grabbed her wrist with the knife, and pulled her onto the bed.

She punched him in the face, making him slacken his grip.

Lyssa ran to the archway, when something hit her in the back of her arm.

Her mouth dropped at the sight of a silver tip sticking out of her shoulder.

She reached around and yanked out the blade.

Infuriated, and without a moment's hesitation, she turned and threw the dagger at Andrada.

It landed right between her eyes.

The Imperator yelled.

Lyssa left the room.

Down to the ground floor, through the wall, and down the tunnel, she went.

She gathered her items. Right as she was about to take off running again, she heard the sounds of hoofs.

Looking back, she saw the shadow of Romans galloping down the mountain.

She hurried back through the forest, and didn't slow until she reached the deserted village.

Exhausted, and having lost a lot of blood, Lyssa crawled into the first deserted straw hut.

Desperately, she wrapped her shoulder, and then passed out on the ground.

~~~

The next morning, when she made it back to the Romani camp, she untied them. She knew the Romans were expert trackers, and they'd likely kill them all.

"Everyone, pack up. You have to leave," she shouted.

"Why?" asked a young man, named Gulzar.

"The Romans are coming. The town is destroyed, and they'll be coming in this direction."

"How do you know, were you followed?" asked another woman.

But it was too late. She should have never stopped in the village.

From out of the trees, came a dozen Roman soldiers.

They were just as brutal as they were rumored to be. It didn't take long for them to slaughter everyone, except the children who would likely be imprisoned, and later enslaved.

Romans typically despised the Romani people.

Lyssa was the only one who got away, and just barely. They'd brought their toughest warrior.

Although he couldn't take Lyssa, with a damaged shoulder, he gave her quite a beating before she finally sunk a sword through his ear.

She couldn't have felt worse. If she'd just stayed away from the palace, the Romanis would still be alive. Yes, they were terrible, dirty thieves, but she didn't want to see their children suffer in jail because of it.

Without any real direction, she wandered through the forest, until, exhausted, she could no longer walk.

She fell to the ground, and crawled to the nearest tree.

Leaning her back against the trunk, she unwrapped her arm. Blood oozed out, copiously, and there was a slight stench that indicated the beginning of an infection.

She should have cauterized the wound already. Hopefully, she hadn't waited too long.

Lyssa looked around for flint stones.

Her brother taught her the Egyptian Bow Drill, but just the slightest movement caused her excruciating pain.

It wasn't hard to find such stones in that particularly rocky floored forest. She seized the first heavily crystallized quartz she could find. Then she gathered some moss, twigs, and branches; she even managed some pine tar.

She set them in a messy pile, pulled out her dagger and struck the rugged blade with the rock, sending sparks into the moss.

After fifteen minutes with no results, she cried.

Frustrated, she hit the blade so hard that it skidded across the surface, sending an array of sparks into the moss, which became immediately enflamed.

She cried even harder with relief.

Lyssa threw in the little twigs, and then small branches. Finally, one of the sticks was aflame.

She pulled the stick, blew it out, and braced herself.

"AAaaaaggghh!!!" screams echoed out for miles.

She threw the branch back into the fire and pulled another one, and placed it to the back of her shoulder, too.

"AAAGGGHHH!!!!"

Flocks of birds left their places in the trees.

"Breathe," she said to herself. "Breathe."

Instead, she passed out.
Meeting Lucenzus
Chapter 3

When she woke, her fire was out, and it was dark. She was face down, sleeping on the ground. Her face was partially numb from the grains of sand that'd pressed into her skin.

Someone stood before her, looking bemused.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

The man had the orange-est colored hair she'd ever seen.

"How long have you watching me?"

"Oh, just a few seconds."

Using one arm, she pushed herself up off the dirt. Looking at her shoulder, she noticed it had soaked through its binding.

"That'll need to be cleaned. It's infected," he said.

He took a bag from off his shoulder, and set it on the ground. From within, the man pulled out a smaller medicine bag.

"You need stitches. Sit down," he said, motioning to the ground. "I have war wound training."

"Why should I trust you?"

"I'm not gonna harm you; I promise. Now, if you let that infection go, you will lose your arm, and maybe even your life. Better to take a chance on me, don't you think?"

She considered him a moment, and then settled down, leaning her back against the tree.

The man rearranged the pile of moss and kindling. From out of air, a fire enflamed them.

"How did you do that?"

"With the power of my mind."

He untied the straps of his medicine bag.

"Who are you?"

"Lucenzus."

He opened the medicine bag and pulled a small leather vial. The man moved closer to her.

"May I touch you?"

"Yes."

He unwrapped the binding from her arm. Lucenzus got another leather bag and uncorked it. He doused water over her wound, and then scrubbed it with a handful of lavender that he, also, pulled from his bag. Then he rinsed it again, and poured acidic vinegar over both sides of her shoulder, making her scream.

"Sorry, but vinegar is an antiseptic, as is lavender. It's necessary to fight infection. Now, I'm just gonna stitch both sides up at the corners, so that the wound can drain," he said.

When he'd done, he re wrapped it and added, "Keep it dry. If it gets moist, open it up and let it breathe; otherwise the infection will continue."

"Thank you."

"Drink," he asked, pulling out yet another bag.

She thanked him and took a sip. From it, the most delicious wine greeted her.

Lucenzus gazed at her as if he were contemplating.

"What is it you want to say?" asked Lyssa. "Spit it out."

"Are you Lyssa, daughter of King Decebalus?"

Her mouth dropped. She felt in her sleeve for her baselard.

Lucenzus, noticing her action, waived his hands at her in a 'please stop' gesture.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Lyssa pulled out the blade anyway. She pointed it, and asked, "How did you know my name?"

"I will show you, but I need to reach into my bag."

"Slowly, then," said Lyssa. "Just so you know, I'm skilled at knife throwing. Try anything, and this blade will be in your neck."

Gently, he pulled back the flap of his bag and pulled out a drawing. It was a miniature of the portrait her father hired an artist to make.

"How did you get this?"

"Your father sent it to your mother. She gave it to me."

"You're lying," she said angrily. "Tell the truth!"

"It is the truth. Do you think it merely coincidence that I showed up, here?"

"Explain."

"First, please, put away the knife. I know you're strong, but I'm like you, Lyssa. You won't be able to take me."

"What do you mean by, 'You're like me?'"

"Put away the blade and I'll explain. Really, haven't I proved that I'm not going to hurt you? So let's be civil, please."

Lyssa tucked the knife back into her scabbard.

"After your father left the palace, he was apprehended by Dacian traitors. He's been taken to a villa somewhere near Orsova, and placed under house arrest. Your father sent a messenger to your mother, telling her that you're in danger. She sent me to get you."

"I don't believe you. What's my mother's name?"

"Sana Mortisia, daughter of Vik Mortisia XVII."

"Okay, so what now?"

"You are to come with me. I will take you to her."

~~~

The next few days, they walked many miles. Lyssa couldn't help but ask one question after another about her mother.

What was she like? What had she been doing all the years? Was she educated, and a lady?

"Lyssa, I'm sorry, but I don't know all the answers. Though our settlement is small, we don't rub shoulders often. I only volunteered to come and get you because it's my job. I take trips, deliver messages, and guide people. Before this, my father kept me up on the hall."

"What hall?"

"Valhol."

"Odin's hall for slain warriors?"

"You know of it?"

"Yes, my governess taught me; only she told me it was a mythological place."

"It's no myth; it's a real place. Things have changed over the centuries, though."

Over the course of their journey, Lyssa came to like Luncenzus. He was nice, calm, intelligent, informed and nonjudgmental. Lyssa'd never had a crush before, but she contemplated, more than once, about kissing him. His lips were pinkish and soft looking. He had blue eyes that were like azure beads.

One day, they came upon a settlement.

People worked in and out of straw huts. The grass was ample, lush and green, and the sky was gray blue.

They were definitely not in Dacia anymore. The temperature drop was a shock to her.

Lucenzus was kind enough to rent rooms at the inn, for them, and ordered that a cloak be made for her.

The inn was nothing more than a very large barn with rickety wood slats and a straw roof.

Lyssa's room was the tiniest she'd ever seen, for it was the size of a closet. On one side of the room was a heap of straw that lay on a wood cot.

The lady of the inn brought her a basin full of water. Lyssa washed her face and body, and then rested for an hour before meeting Lucenzus for dinner.

When she woke, it was twilight. The first stars twinkled in the sky.

She walked around to the dining area. The town's workmen had cleared off, and a semblance of night life was emerging. Men drunk and danced in the road, while scandalous looking women walked up and down the muddy road.

The dining hall was nothing more than a couple long wood benches that many people crowded into for a bite. Many appeared to be passing through town, while others were there simply to mingle.

Across the room, Lucenzus waited. A bottle of wine and a candle lit.

He stood up as she sat directly across from him.

"Have a nice rest?"

"Yes, very," she said.

"I took the liberty of ordering lamb stew."

"Sounds great," she said, helping herself to a glass of wine.

Ripping a chunk off the loaf, she asked, "Where exactly is Valhol?"

"It's right above where we're headed, which is Valhala. The sister city used to be a sacred place, but now the last of the Primas are gathered there. Now, only the Priests are up on the hall."

A lady came and set a medium sized pot in their midst. Fragrant lamb steamed forth.

"We should make it in a few days."

"You never answered my question: Why did you say you're like me?"

"I'm of similar blood, as you."

They tucked into their stew a moment, before Lyssa asked, "What's does she look like, my mother?"

"Oh, like you. She's got long dark hair and large beautiful brown eyes. A very striking lady; equal in darkness and beauty, to the fairest."

"How is it that she's dark like me, and yet you're fair complexioned."

"We all belonged to other ethnic groups, at one point. Primas ruled this Earth, the way the humans do, now."

"You are one of these things, too?"

"Half, and so are you."

He must have noticed the disbelief in her eyes, for he said, "It's the truth. You'll see soon."

She took a few more bites and considered his words.

"So she's a commoner?"

"No, not exactly. Our people don't view each other in caste. There are the leaders, and there are the non leaders."

"You don't know anything else about her?"

"No, but really, what's the rush? You don't need to know everything now. You'll, both, have much time to talk. We'll get there soon, I promise."

That night they retired early.

The next day, they stocked up on supplies, and continued their journey north.

A week and a half later, they ended up at a settlement where a friend of Lucenzus took them in for a couple nights.

It was even colder than their last stop. Grey clouds hung close to the ground, and herds stayed close together.

Just like the last town, the houses were made of wood and straw. The people almost seemed covered in mud, as it was everywhere.

Lyssa pulled her cloak in, tightly.

A man in rags and muddy heels walked up to them with a large smile on his face. He had eyes the color of wine.

For a moment, Lyssa was caught by Lucenzus' smile, which was wide and beautiful, accentuating lovely cheek bones.

"How goes it, friend?"

"Great!" He hugged the man, slapping his back. "This is Lyssa; Lyssa, this is Von."

She extended her hand. When he took hers, he grabbed a little too hard, hurting her, something that'd never happened before. She wondered if Von were Prima too.

They followed him down the road to the largest hut.

"How are you feeling?" asked Lucenzus.

"Ah, great," said Von. "Still struggling with this blood thirst, but it's getting better."

"Blood thirst?" asked Lyssa.

"She's half Prima, but ignorant of our ways," said Lucenzus to Von. He explained to her, "When the Primas first realized how small their numbers were getting, they tried turning humans who looked most like them, into them."

"That's right," Von cut in. "They housed us, taught us, and initiated us, using their blood in a sacred rite. They knew their blood had magical properties, but they didn't realize there would be side effects."

"I don't understand," said Lyssa.

"After drinking the Prima blood, it changes the human into something else, altogether. Shameful, to be honest: blood sucking fiends, demons," said Lucenzus. "They had to destroy most of those first Prima initiates. Fortunately, Stelar, the high priest, has managed to create a solution that lessens the effects of the blood."

"Is that why your eyes are red?"

"Yes."

"Did you take part in these rites, Lucenzus?"

"Yes, but those who are half Prima don't suffer the same as a pure human."

"You don't drink blood, then?"

"Nope, never. Half Primas don't need it. But my strengths increased, a dozenfold."

"That's not exactly true though," said Von. "Remember old Zacarius? He's half Prima, and he drank the blood and went crazy, even worse than most humans. Some peoples Prima side is stronger than others. Zacarius couldn't go a day without killing, and now's he's staked underground, just like many of the humans whom Stelar's serum couldn't help."

"That's horrible!" said Lyssa. "They continue to give people these rites?"

"Yes, and be prepared. I suspect they'll want you to take initiation. All half breeds are expected to participate."

"Why do they do it?"

"Because the blood makes humans immortal, and magical; almost as strong as a Prima, but not quite."

That night, Von and the villagers had a welcoming party for them. As it turned out, Lucenzus and Von grew up together. They were like brothers; it was he who had Von initiated.

The town's people strung up a cow, and they dance around the fire and drank fine wine.

Lyssa was exhausted, and pardoned herself for not being extremely social. She'd just never been on the road for such a long period before.

She sat back and watched the fire, drinking wine. Her mind flitted between thoughts of her father, brother and mother.

She took a sip of her wine and sighed with happiness. Yes, it was sad that she might never see her father or brother again, but she was happy to know that she was going someplace. That she might have a future home, and that she wouldn't be alone, or afraid, or have to hide from anyone. As grim as the situation was, she had something to be grateful for.

Across the fire sat two pretty blonde girls who couldn't have been more than seventeen. Lucenzus went up to them and spoke enthusiastically.

Lyssa tried to watch them inconspicuously, hoping he didn't ask either of them to dance.

When he did just that, Lyssa felt her face get hot.

She looked away and downed her wine.

Von appeared before her. The way his pale face and hair were washed out, yet his eyes glowed by the light of the fire was demonic looking.

"Dance?" he asked.

She accepted his hand.

He yanked her up, fast and strong, and caught her on his hip.

Immediately, Lyssa was taken with him, and a little aroused. Never had a man been able to exalt strength over her before.

He spun her around fast, making her laugh. They stepped around and around, until she was out of breath.

"Aren't you exhausted?"

"No, I'm not human, anymore! I never get tired!" he boasted.

He grabbed her by the hand and led her to a section of the table where he poured her more wine.

Instinctively, Lyssa looked to see where Lucenzus was.

Still talking to one of the girls.

Noticing her gaze, Von said, "You like him? What a shame! I like you. You're different than these pasties. I can't stop staring at your straight, shiny dark hair, the way the light bounces off it. I've never seen anything like it."

He reached over and lightly touched her smooth strands.

"The finest hair I've ever seen on a woman."

"Funny," said Lyssa. "In my land, pasty is quite fashionable. Golden locks are priceless."

"We all want what we don't have," he said.

"Tis true," said Lyssa, raising her cup.

"Cheers" he said.

That night, she fell asleep on the bench by the fire.

Sometime later, a pair of hands lifted her.

She opened her eyes and was pleased to see that it was Lucenzus.

He carried her to a heap of straw in the barn and laid her down.

Lyssa put her hands around his neck and pressed him toward her.

Lightly, they kissed for a few moments, before he pulled away.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm supposed to be getting married."

"To whom?" she asked, feeling shocked.

"I don't know yet."

"I'm confused."

"My father won't let me just marry anyone. It's a bad idea to get involved with me. I don't want to hurt you."

"Lucenzus, it's just a kiss. Don't you think you're overreacting?"

"That's what women always say, but it's always more they want. I did fall in love once with a mortal woman. When my father found out, he was livid; had me jailed for a long time."

"My father jailed me all the time. It's not a big deal."

"Wow, Lyssa. You really have no clue about the people you come from."

"You know, I'm getting sick of your snideness. If you don't want to talk plainly, then don't talk to me at all."

He sighed loudly, and said, "The Prima people live longer than humans do. When they jail their people, it's not just for a couple of days, more like a couple of decades."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said disbelievingly. "Just go away."

She laid back into the straw, and closed her eyes.

"Lyssa, you're part immortal."

She rolled back over and looked at him.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. The Prima people are immortals. You and I are part immortal. By the time my father let me out of jail, the woman I loved was old and gray. It was the most devastating thing I've ever endured."

"How old are you?"

"A lot older than I look," he said, stood and walked out.

The next couple of days, they walked many miles.

Lyssa was hurt by Lucenzus' rejection, but her anger lifted upon finally seeing Valhala.

Up on the base of an incline, nestled against a mountain, was dozens of houses. In the middle, was a construction she'd only heard of from learned men; a structure she'd only seen in Roman drawings: a large stone castle. It was the most majestic thing she'd every seen. Behind it was an enormous peak that rose well beyond and into clouds.

"Up there is Valhol, beyond the clouds."

"That's impossible," she said. "How could anyone make such a journey?"

The answer to her question came a moment later.

Outlined by the horizon of the setting sun was a woman with long dark hair. Like an angel, she flew at them; her white dress billowed about her.

"Oh," she said, as she dropped to the ground. "I'm no angel."

Apparently, the woman could read minds, too.

"Mother?"

The woman pulled her into a bone crushing embrace.

"You must be my mother. I don't think anyone has ever held me so tight before," she smiled.

"Take my hands," she said.

Lyssa took one, and Lucenzus grabbed the other.

She flew them to Valhala.
Learning Valhol

Chapter 4

They flew over the city gates and landed in town's center.

Before them was a line of people waiting to get water from a stone well. Behind them was the entrance to the castle.

Turning around, Lyssa noticed several roads that led away from the center. Both sides of each of the roads were lined with stone houses.

The Primas were clearly advanced in architecture and stone masonry. In her land, she'd only seen drawings of stone homes.

Lyssa shivered. A thick cloud of fog hung around them.

"As daughter to the Dacian King, you've been invited to stay in the castle with the Elders," her mother said.

Lucenzus interrupted them. He said, "I'm gonna leave you two. I've got business, and I need to check in with my father. Bye, Lyssa."

He walked down a road to their right, and disappeared into a house.

"Come," said her mother.

They approached the castle. The guards opened the doors for them.

Inside was even chillier. Cold emanated from the stone walls.

Reading her mind once more, her mother said, "This is a cold place for non Prima people. We aren't as sensitive to temperatures as humans are."

Lyssa rubbed her eyes, trying to focus, but the entrance hall was too dark. All she could see was the light of a flickering candle some yards away.

"Grab my hand," her mother said. "Prima people don't need as much light to see."

In near blackness, she led her down a thin, but high ceilinged, chilly stone walkway.

At the end, they went right until they were in an open space. Though there was more room around them, it was still compact.

Lyssa, who was used to large halls and open plains, said, "Being in here feels like we're entombed."

"Don't worry, Lyssa. You'll get used to it. Most people in the world live in caves that are half this size, like the desert people."

Her mother dragged her down another right hall.

At the end was an amply lit room. Around a center stone console, a few women were preparing food. One kneaded bread while another stuffed a bird. One lady was chopping carrots.

To their left and right were more halls, but her mother led her up a set of stone steps.

Although the steps continued upward, they stepped onto the first landing and walked to the end of the hall.

Her mother, Sana, opened the door.

In the center of the room was a large table with chairs. Next to it was a canopied bed. On the right sight of the room, there was a fireplace. To the left was a large shuttered widow.

Lyssa opened the shutter and looked out.

Below, there were hundreds of houses. People walked in and out of them, carrying items. Some worked out in the open, farming animals and crafting while others tended small fields.

Suddenly, light filled the room.

Lyssa turned around. Every candle on the wall had come to flame.

"You can call fire with your mind, too?"

"Yes. You, probably, can do things, too."

"Me?"

"Every Prima is different. We each have our own abilities to control the elements, to read minds, and to master certain forms of kinesis. Since your half Prima, you might have some of these abilities, too."

Lyssa didn't think she had any so called abilities, but she did think back to a time when she'd visited a lion tamer who'd come to town. A particularly stubborn male wouldn't obey him. When the tamer struck him with a whip, the lion went for him. Without thinking, Lyssa grabbed the lion by the tail, and flung him several feet into an open cage, and locked the door.

There were many more strange incidents of strength, after that day.

"The Prima people are stronger than the average human. Our muscles are made up of a different kind of tissue," her mother said. "Our flesh is completely resilient and resistant to spasms, strains, and over pulling, as described by humans."

"But not resistant to stabbings?"

Sana looked at her shoulder.

She walked over to her, and pulled down her sleeve.

"Oh that's nasty," she said. "After we talk, I'll take you to the apothecary, down the street. You'll find our medicine is advanced. The swelling and puss will be completely gone by tomorrow morning."

She sat down at the table, and gestured that Lyssa should do the same.

"Where do you live?"

"In a lovely house further up the mountain base."

"What is it you wish to talk to me about?"

Her mother looked at her, quizzically.

"Well, actually, I assumed that you'd want to talk to me. I figured you'd have lots of questions, as usually those who are reunited with us do."

"I do have questions. I just wasn't sure if now is the time."

"Now is fine, as we haven't much time. You are to meet several of the Elders for dinner in a few hours, so how about we just jump right in? I'm sure you want to know why I gave you up. That's the number one question our interbred children have."

Sana paused a moment, sighed and continued, "As you know, our people are dying out. Humans are, now, the dominant species. We could easily blink them out of existence, but it won't change the fact that the Primas are dying out. We'll continue to do so, whether the humans are here or not. We've decided that it's better to have at least one intelligent form of life, rather none."

"Why don't the Prima people simply have more children?" Lyssa asked.

"Primas don't reproduce as quickly as humans, and that's a good thing, considering that we're immortal. The Earth's resources could be easily depleted.

Our reproductive system comes into cycle once every century, and we carry the child for ten or more years. This is why the humans will always dominate us in numbers.

When our elders realized how quickly the humans were populating, they tried interbreeding to create a species that would defend us, Primas, and keep our legacy alive. Unfortunately, most of the human women died, while most of the Prima women miscarried. You and Lucenzus, and others like him are quite the minority. You're likely the result of some sort weakness or mutation in our genes.

However, the King and I were not an attempt at population. We met on the River Danube, one night at a solstice feast. We fell into passion with one another. Our union and you were both by chance.

When I found myself pregnant with you, our Elders thought it a unique opportunity to liaison with the humans. If we couldn't breed well with them, we'd form an alliance.

King Decebalus agreed to raise you as a lady of the house in exchange for gifts, as he was due to marry Andrada. He would've never seen you suffer, but he had no intention to take you home with him. Also, he agreed to send us the best of his humans to join us.

But then the Romans came, and his main concern was protecting your land. They fought and lost, three times. We knew it was only a matter of time before Rome would tire of King Decebalus.

Now we could've easily pushed out the Romans, but the Elders thought it useless. Not only would they be risking the lives of Primas - as though we're strong, we're far from indestructible, but the humans were populating like ants. They'd never stop coming, and as you can see from nations around, they don't stop until they conquer."

"Why did you never come to visit me?"

"In recent years, women are rarely allowed to leave Valhala."

"Why?"

"Many women have gone missing over the years. We suspect they were abducted, sold into slavery, or killed for being Prima. Unlike you, many of our women haven't been trained to fight. The Elders don't believe women should do such things."

"What about half Primas?"

"You're going to be initiated. You'll be expected to remain, and do as the Elders tell you."

"I don't want to be initiated. I only came to meet you. I'm a human, born and raised."

"You must be initiated. Our people are dying out. The Elders will not accept your rejection. Don't make them force you, okay? Lest they jail you, and then you won't see sunlight for thirty years."

She paused.

Lyssa didn't respond.

"Tonight, you will dine with the village Elders, here in the castle. Tomorrow, you'll be taken to the hall, where you'll train with the priests and priestesses."

~~~

Later that day, there was a knock on the door.

A handmaiden came in and placed a white waxed linen dress on the bed. She explained to her about how to get to the dining room, and then left.

Lyssa put on the dress, and went downstairs to dinner.

She turned right at the hall, and right again.

In a large room, several men were gathered, drinking from gold goblets.

Lyssa was relieved that there were only a few people. She was never one for big parties, yet her father always had the biggest, and always insisted that she entertain.

The stone room was small, though charming. It had a large fireplace and a long table that could have seated twenty. Tapestries hung on the walls, and statues stood in every corner of the room. A large wood and iron chandelier hung from the ceiling.

The Primas were a clean and elegant looking people. They were tall and slender, with each of them standing at about six and a half feet, with waist length blond to red hair, pale skin and eyes.

They each wore simple linen tunics with gold belts and gold jewelry.

Of them all, only one blond man stood out. Aesthetically, he looked like the others, but his eyes were as red as Von's. He stood about a foot taller than the others, and his shoulders were also twice the width.

Lyssa knew he must have been a mighty warrior, probably the strongest man she'd ever seen.

One man with long light brown hair and blue eyes walked up to her.

"I'm Stelar. I'm a priest up on the hall. Come, I will introduce you to the others."

The men were extremely polite, and made elegant gestures, like nodding their heads, making quiet compliments, and light handshakes.

Their behavior was an extreme contrast to the men of her father's kingdom. Often, to show gratitude, loyalty and enthusiasm, they'd make loud, boastful speeches with over exaggerated body language.

The warrior, whom Stelar introduced as Sestin, looked as though he wasn't one for parties. In his wine colored eyes, she thought she saw disinterest.

Next to the impressive man, stood one who wasn't as striking in stature so much as in stance. He had light auburn hair, and orange eyes that seemed almost fluid. The color seemed to move across his iris, almost like flames danced in his eyes.

"This is General Vidar," Stelar said.

The man with the strange eyes inclined his head toward her. He wore a linen tunic like the others, but he had a mesh duster over his. And on his gold belt, a row of knives hung on hooks that'd been soldered on.

Vidar's skin was smooth and pasty. It was almost the color of dough, except extremely glossy.

"Vidar is from an older race of Primas," explained Stelar. "That is why he looks... different."

"Tell us about your life as a Princess," said the one Stellar introduced as Orlandus. He had long chocolate brown hair and marble blue eyes.

"I'm not a princess. I'm a lady."

"What?" he asked, sounding confused.

"Orlandus, the humans don't honor birth children, unless those who produced them are sanctified by marriage," said Vidar.

Lyssa didn't know if she should be ashamed or what. Being a bastard, in her land, was not a good thing.

Stelar must have heard her thoughts, for he said, "Don't worry, Lyssa. Primas don't understand marriage. When you live forever, being bound to one person is not a wise idea. No, we survive best by mingling. We only started to engage in the practice of marriage recently, when we needed it to help our people – in our attempts to liaison with humans. Still, some of us don't know all the rules of human society."

"Maybe we should marry her off to a powerful king?" offered a white blond man with stone colored eyes.

"Daius, don't be rude," said the warrior, Sestin.

"How am I being rude?"

"I'm not marrying anyone," she said assertively.

"As a lady, you should know better than to say no to a man," said Daius.

Lyssa's temper flared. Never had a man had the gall to talk to her, a lady, in such a way. In her father's palace, he'd surely be jailed.

"You're not my father, and you're not my king. No man will ever dare talk to me like that! You will check yourself, sir, or I will leave, immediately."

"What makes you think we'll let you leave?" he asked.

"Okay, okay," cut in Vidar authoritatively. "Daius, shut it! Let's show our guest respect. Let's remember that she is a lady, not some peasant."

Though Vidar defended her, the men seemed disturbed by her defiance. They gave her scathing looks. Only Vidar and Sestin seemed to look at her with respect.

Finally, a servant came in and told them that dinner was ready.

Lyssa, who was checking the exits, and contemplating her chances for escape, wasn't paying attention.

Vidar, taking notice, said abruptly to her, "Why don't you sit next to me?"

He grabbed her hand and dragged her to a place at the table. Though she tried to resist, he was too powerful for her.

Dinner was a dull affair.

Lyssa kept looking at all the exits, but it was just impossible. The stone rooms were impenetrable. She would just have to fight her way out, and these men were strong.

Inwardly, she cursed herself. The minute her mother started speaking of her initiation, she should have run.

The men asked her about her studies. They expected that she'd be learned in music and literature, and even asked her play a lyre for them.

Her father had tried to pawn her off, using these same qualities. For that, she despised them and focused on fighting.

"When you're taken up to the hall, you'll do chores. You'll work side by side with the women. Just because you're royalty, doesn't mean you'll be treated specially. When you've passed all your exams, and we see that you're fit, you'll be fully initiated. You can't fail. We expect you to fulfill your obligations as a lady," said one of the men over dessert, whose name she'd forgotten.

"For the hundredth time, I'm not going up the mountain. I only came here to see my mother," she threw down her fork, and left the dining room.

She ran through the confusing castle walls, looking for the exit when several Prima guards ran at her from down the hall.

Lyssa tried to outrun them, but they were too fast. One picked her up, easily, carried her to her room and locked her in.

The next morning, a maid knocked on the door at sunrise. She left a simple tunic for her to wear.

Fifteen minutes later, a guard knocked on the door.

"Are you dressed, miss?"

"Yes," she said.

He unlocked the door.

In he walked with manacles and chains, which he cuffed her with and then escorted her, forcefully, down the stairs.

He dragged her onto a wood platform, where a group of men and women were gathered.

The men and women looked to be about her age, while some were younger and some slightly older.

All the men and women suddenly gasped, as the platform was lifted, by invisible force, into the sky.

Several minutes later, they'd passed through a thick cloud layer and landed on evergreen icicled grass.

Above the clouds, the sun shone brightly. And the air was extremely moist.

Stelar who appeared to have flown on his own, suddenly landed in front of them on the grass.

He unlocked Lyssa's manacles, and warned her to behave.

They followed him through the castle gates, which opened automatically and shut behind them.

They walked across a few yards of grass. On the right side of the city was an enormous bridge over a large koi pond.

Up the city entrance they went, and then followed cobble stone roads diagonally to the city's center.

In the center was an even larger stone castle. The doors opened and Stelar beckoned them in.

The castle air was rent with the delicious smell of pork.

Stelar led them down a dimly lit stone corridor to a dining hall.

Up on the dais, he turned around and spoke.

"Please, sit anywhere you like. This is a breakfast feast. It is our way of welcoming you. Good luck, initiates. May your endeavors, here, lead you and us to lengthy prosperity."

Lyssa chose a seat amidst several fair men and women. They said nothing to her, and hardly any words to each other. In fact, none of them looked overly happy about being there.

They had a grand breakfast of pork, cheese, bread and wine. They even had Mediterranean apples and figs. Lyssa had never seen such a big basket of oranges, of which she ate as many as she could.

After, Stelar led them all to their dorms.

In the back of the city, there were three large stone properties. The estate in the center, said Stelar, belonged to General Vidar. The one on the left was for the women, and the one on right was for men.

He, then, instructed them to find rooms, and meet them back in the city center for instruction.

She walked to the ladies dorm.

Inside was a plain common room, with a large Persian rug and fireplace. Pillows were strewn everywhere. In the corner, clay jugs of water sat.

Lyssa walked upstairs and picked a room at front of the hall. If she were to plan an escape, it would be the perfect spot to monitor the others movements.

But how was she going to escape? She asked herself. She couldn't fly, like the Primas.

Lyssa set her things on the bed.

"Hi," said a girl, who was already there.

"Hey," she replied. Looking around the room, Lyssa asked, "What is all this stuff?"

On the mantle was a black book that had been bound with skin. On the front, etched in gold, were the words Necro-Grimoire.

"Spells for the Dead?" she looked at her in disgust.

Next to the book lay a wood cup. On both sides of the book and cup were dark grey candles that'd been burnt half way down.

"Some things from home," the girl said.

On the wall in some sort of black ash, Lyssa recognized the symbol of an inverted pentagram.

"Are you a witch?" she asked.

"One of the very last."

"Show me your power."

"Leap off a cliff," said the girl. "I'm not your personal joker."

"Sorry," she said. "I just heard... things."

When the girl didn't reply, she said, "I'm Lyssa."

"I'm Gwynna," said the girl.

"What's it like?"

"Why does everyone ask me that?" She looked annoyed. "I'm human, just like everyone else."

"That's not what my governess says. She says witches can call the rain, and the spirits; that they can even curse people. Is it true?"

They walked back to the city center, together.

Gwynna was a nice girl, though she had a strange way of speaking and thinking. When Lyssa told her she couldn't wait to leave Valhol, she told her that her time hadn't come yet.

Lyssa responded by asking how she knew what her times was? Gwynna said the wind told her.

The other girls seemed to want to keep as much space between them and Gwynna as possible. Lyssa couldn't figure out why, but she liked being with Gwynna because she wasn't pressured to interact with the others. She didn't want to get more involved with the Primas than she already was. Being Gwynna's friend helped her keep her distance, while not being completely alone.

That day, Lyssa went to several lessons before being introduced to the Elder she'd be serving. His name was Meilic.

"Everyday, you will start with bringing me my breakfast," he said. "After, you may breakfast, yourself, then you will clean my lodges, and feed my wolf."

In the corner of the room, an animal that was larger than a dog, with the thickest coat of white hair she'd ever seen, laid.

Their teacher was a lady named Rass. She taught most of the lessons, though Stelar taught them sacred rites.

Over the next few months, Lyssa learned Prima traditions and folklore: How the first Prima rose from the water. How they were once sea creatures who'd evolved. How they, themselves, were gods and worshipped no one.

They even wrote extensive papers on the subject of Primas, and were verbally quizzed in front of each other.

The only day off they got was every tenth day, when they were expected to scrub the castle from floor to floor.

As the months went by, occasionally, they'd get to go down the mountain; all except for Lyssa. Stelar was an excellent mind reader. He knew she wanted, desperately, to escape.

"Lyssa," he said to her one day. "You are more valuable than anyone here. Soon, you will be one of us, forever. I hope you'll sincerely join us, be on our side. We need you. You don't realize how much power you could have with us, Prima, if only you'd work with us."

She heard him, and even felt soft for his argument. But she wouldn't join any group that intended to marry her off, like a foreign gift exchange. Not even her father forced that upon her.

Lyssa didn't see her mother again until Yuletide. Though several times, she thought she felt her presence near.

She stood in a red tunic across the way.

"Lyssa, how are things on the hall?"

"Great."

She kissed her on the cheek, and gave her a gold goblet.

"I hear you'll be going through initiation soon."

When Lyssa didn't reply, she continued, "Lyssa, don't you want to join us? To be with us? We may be desperate, but most humans would love to have the power that we have. Think of the good you could do."

In the corner, she saw Lucenzus. He smiled and came up to say hi.

Lyssa still felt rejected, but decided to let it go. She couldn't be angry when he smiled so genuinely at her.

Her mother smiled at them, and allowed him to take her to dance.

Later that night, they retired to their dorms.

When she heard footsteps in her room, she assumed it was Gwynna. But then the person pulled her from under her covers, and bound her.

She was dragged into the cold night air, and pushed down onto her knees in grass.

Sensing there were several others there, too, she realized that it was her initiation.

Stelar's voice came over them.

"On this night, we welcome you to our clan. You are, now, one of us. You will bow before no gods, because you are gods. With each day, you'll work for the Prima cause, which is the preservation and prosperity of our people."

Then all went silent. She heard steps moving across the grass.

The footsteps moved in front of her. Someone pushed a cup into her hand.

She drank, deeply, and fell over.

The others moaned and screamed, as the blood worked its way through their system, changing them.

Lyssa, being half Prima, seemed to have more of a tolerance for the blood. There was a pain in her gut, but mostly she hallucinated. She saw rainbows dance across her lids, and imagined that she was floating in the ocean; gold cups floated around her.

When she woke, she was in her bed again. She was hot and sweaty, and her blankets and pillows were on the floor.

Gwynna was in bed, looking like she'd had a tough night as well.

Lyssa needed to feel the cool air. It was just so warm in her room.

When she stepped out into the light, her eyes recoiled.

Everything looked clearer. There were cracks in the cobble stones that she couldn't see before. The sound of clouds moving around her was deafening.

She walked through the city, examining and listening to everything. The touch of the stone was different, too. It felt rougher than before.

At the koi pond, she walked up on the bridge and looked into the water. The way it moved was fluid but solid. She'd never noticed how water had mass, like a plant or an animal.

"Hi, Lyssa."

She turned.

Her mother stood there, looking at her with a smile.

"I've been waiting for you to wake," she said.

She walked closer and said, "I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. You are every bit the lady I'd hoped to have."

Even her mother looked different. Her skin, which looked so resilient and bright before, now looked even brighter.

Lyssa smiled, and turned back to the pond. Little fish spawn floated in the water. It was also something she'd never have seen before.

"Lyssa, look at me."

"I'm sorry if I'm off. It's the blood, it's changing me. Everything looks different, and smells different."

"I've come to say goodbye."

"What?" she burst.

She turned to face her.

"I'm going to rest."

"Why?" she asked incredulously.

"I'm old, Lyssa. It's something I've planned for a while, now."

"I don't get it. You talk about saving your race, and here you are, dropping out of the fight."

"I'm tired. There's nothing else I can say. I've been aware three times longer than the average Prima. When I was young, we owned the Earth; that was seven thousand years ago. I've never taken a rest, ever. Not even for a decade because I've been fighting to save our race."

"What do the Elders say?"

"They're alright with it, though some are disappointed."

"So how does this work?"

"Vidar gave me a designation. It's a secret; I won't tell you where. I'm going there, and I'll go to sleep. But I'll be aware for years to come. You'll feel me, and maybe even talk to me, as my consciousness may roam the Earth, occasionally."

"What do you mean by you'll be aware for years to come? Are you saying that you're going to die, eventually?"

"No, we don't die, Primas. We just go into unconsciousness, some never to return."

Lyssa's eyes became moist; her face hot.

"Mother, how could you? You're selfish! We haven't even had a conversation since I arrived. We haven't had time..." but she cut her off.

"Lyssa, you're not the only one in the world to lose someone prematurely. You'll survive. You're a Prima now. The Elders want you to move into the castle. You'll be taken care of."

Lyssa's throat tightened. She opened her mouth to speak, but choked instead.

Her mother pulled her into a tight hug, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Please, don't go. Not yet!"

But she ascended into the clouds.

"Wait!" she yelled, but she'd gone.
Unfinished Business

Chapter 5

That night was to be the second night of initiation. Stelar was to pass around the concoction that corrected the effects of the Prima blood.

Lyssa just couldn't do it. She was too consumed with the idea that, once more, she faced a life alone.

But she didn't know that for sure, she told herself. What if her brother still lived?

She didn't leave her room that day, though Gwynna tried to urge her. She brought her food, but it remained untouched.

Finally, Stelar came to visit.

"Starr," he said timidly.

"Go away."

"I can't. You need to take your serum. It's a three step process, and I can't administer it here."

"I don't want the serum. I want you to go away."

"I can't," he said urgently. "You're not supposed to be here. The Elders want you down in the castle below, in Valhala. And we're gonna need this room for new initiates, who are due to arrive any day now."

When she said nothing, he added, "Plus, if you don't take the serum soon, the Prima blood might make you crazy. We'll, then, have to destroy you."

Lyssa wasn't paying attention. Ever since she'd turned, she'd been hearing voices from below, but also in faraway lands. It was almost as if the blood awakened dormant powers she never knew she'd had.

Stelar, reading her mind, said," Lyssa, come with me. You need your serum, now. The blood is making you crazy. You must shut out the voices."

But Lyssa ran out of the room, and took off into the twilight air.

~~~

She landed in front of a statue, sometime that evening. It was her father.

The vision she'd had while Stelar spoke to her was of the King slashing his throat.

Hunger tore at her insides, but she ignored it.

Voices echoed around her. Some were even talking about her father. Somehow, she knew that his body was in a tomb on the other side of the city.

She took off into the air again.

This time when she landed, a man was laying a wreath on the tomb. The smell was so fragrant unlike anything she'd smelled before. Of course, Lyssa realized that it was the Prima blood heightening her senses.

The man turned and looked at her in surprise.

"Oh, I didn't hear you come up," he said, putting his hand on his chest.

The man said something else to her, but she couldn't hear because the beat of his heart was so loud.

His skin gave off a scent that reminded her of a roast her father had, some years ago. Only the man smelled different, better, luscious and sweet, yet with the salt from his glands.

Suddenly, the man screamed and ran off. Something he saw while looking at her face scared him.

As he ran, his scent trailed fragrantly behind him. He was afraid, and his fear was invigorating to her.

Curiously, she followed that scent, wondering how it could be so wonderful. How could a filthy human be capable of such sweetness?

Her footsteps were fast, for although the man ran, she still managed to catch up to him as she walked slowly.

They stopped in front of a clay hut with a straw roof.

Lyssa heard his thoughts. They were at his home.

"Please," she heard the man plead.

She leaned into him, putting one of her hands around his neck, and pulled him into her.

Lyssa ran her nose and lips up and down his neck, and even licked his face. She wanted more of the taste that fear put off from the man.

Her new instinct controlled her. She put her mouth on his neck, feeling her teeth pierce his skin.

She dragged her fangs down his neck, ripping a jagged line through his skin so the blood could run freely.

Sucking the man made every cell in her body come to life. A tingling sensation traveled up and down her back; it was almost an erotic feeling.

She heard a woman walking toward them, but Lyssa drank and drank. She couldn't put him down until the woman screamed blood curdling.

Lyssa heard voices and thoughts around her, wondering who and why someone was screaming.

She dropped the man, ran to the woman and broke her neck.

When she fell to the ground, her head slammed onto a small rock that stuck out of the ground. The flesh of her scalp was sliced clean across. Pink flesh peeked out at her.

Lyssa bent down and tasted it. It was better than anything ever.

Although she told herself to stop, she couldn't. She started wolfing down the woman's scalp, hair and all.

When she'd consumed it all, she grabbed the small rock and struck it at her head, cracking the woman's skull. She pounded it again and again, until her brain revealed itself.

Lyssa ripped out the brain, and bit deeply. She relished the sweet yet salty taste, the spongy texture on her tongue. She even swallowed down the woman's spinal cord and nerve endings.

She was in such a feeding frenzy that she didn't realize she was surrounded by men.

One tried to pull her off, but he might as well have been pulling a pig out of slop. There was no way he could separate her from her meal.

Someone stabbed her with a large knife.

It woke her from her frenzy. She looked down and shrieked at the sight of the blade sticking through her gut.

A pair of hands grabbed her, but she was in too much shock to resist.

Suddenly, she was being ushered somewhere, but she didn't know where.

Next thing she knew, they were in a grass clearing. One of the men pulled the blade from her gut, and swung it at her neck, severing her head.

Although her head lay separate from her body, she could still see the sky and the stars.

She screamed even louder.

The sound of sifting dirt came to her ears; one of the men was digging a hole.

A pair of hands picked her head up and threw her in the hole. Another placed a wide wooden stake at the place where her heart was, and pounded it with a mallet, barring her to the ground. Then they covered her with dirt, as she cried.

She wasn't buried long before she passed out.

Starr

Vampin Book Series #14

By Jamie Ott
Copyright © 2012 Jamie Ott.

All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be used. For permissions or information, please contact passionateprose@americamail.com

Publication: 6/7/2012
The Last Witch
Chapter 1

This must be what semi consciousness was like.

When vampires tired of living, rather than destroy themselves, sometimes they'd go into such a state. They called it semi consciousness because even though their bodies slept, they were very much aware. For some, it was temporary, and they'd wake every couple of decades-centuries. Others made the slip permanent; their bodies would forever be lost in the Earth.

Was that what was going to happen to her? She wondered, as her consciousness wandered the Earth.

It was like she was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. She could see and hear happenings in multiple cities.

Mostly, she focused on the dying cries of vampires, and there was one that was most familiar to her.

She honed in on that cry.

As she got closer, she realized it wasn't so much a cry as it was an angry scream.

In a small dark room there were two women. They were so old that their skin resembled alabaster.

In the middle of a stone room, a blonde lady in rags peered into a water basin.

"You're driving me crazy!" said a dark haired lady with dark amber brown eyes. "You haven't any clues?"

"No," said the lady in rags.

"Haven't you any guesses?"

"No."

"Well, you'd better find something, or I'll speed you into the afterlife."

"We all gotta go sometime," said the woman.

"Don't get smart with me. I learned from the best. Your hell will be my making."

"I don't know what you expect from me, Lyssa," said the lady, looking up from the basin. "I was born when the last of my kind died out. I barely learned of the old ways before I was shoved into the Roman times. From then on, witch craft was a life I had to forget; even the polytheists hated us. Even today, human-daughters of the old race are ignorant; they don't even realize that they're not wholly human. These things are lost forever, as is what happens to civilizations."

"Yes, well, help me succeed and I'll restore your kind. You won't be alone ever again. You can embrace what you never had."

"After 3000 years, do you really think I care about restoring my kind? I was happily resting this last century, until you came along."

She walked over to a stone bench and sat. Gesturing to the basin with her arm, she said, "Maybe you ought to take a look. You have the talisman now."

The amber eyed woman walked up to the basin and peered in. Starr's consciousness followed her.

Images of different parts of the world spun fast across the surface of the water.

After hours of looking, she sighed.

"Is there no other way?"

"Come on," said the old woman. She held her hand out to her. "Let us combine our strength."

Credenza slipped her palm into the woman's and pressed the talisman to her chest.

They gazed into the basin for hours more.

Help on the Way
Chapter 2

Her inner demon must have been warning her, for her consciousness was suddenly yanked back into her body.

Though she couldn't open her eyes, she woke to find her snow grave had frozen her solid. She didn't even feel the cold anymore.

She heard movement above her.

Starr tried to use her mind to see above her grave – a form of telepathy, but her powers weren't working. Being frozen solid had impaired many of her vampire abilities.

She panicked when the sound of crunching snow came from right above her head.

Whoever it was, she didn't sense anything familiar about him or her. If the person was a Primordial, she didn't want to get his or her attention. They'd surely destroy her without a care.

But surely the person knew she was there?

And then, as if answering her question, the person left.

Sleep dragged her down into the lofty layers of her mind, again.

~~~

Starr was back with Credenza, only they were no longer in the cave. They were flying through the atmosphere. The sky was black as pitch, but the stars and the moon lit the way.

They flew all night long.

She was looking for something.

What? Starr didn't know yet, but it must have been the same thing she was searching for in the basin.

Just when the sky was divided between the sun and the moon, they descended into the window of a castle.

Starr recognized the architecture, immediately. They were back at the Council's castle, in Romania.

Credenza landed in a stone room. In the center was a large round table at which she sat.

All along the walls, candles came to light by the command of Credenza's mind.

She lifted her hand to her neck and slowly pulled at the chain.

From out of her shirt popped the red talisman.

Closing her eyes, as if praying for strength, she lifted the chain off her neck and lay it on the desk.

The power boost the charm gave her appeared to wear her out. Her posture became looser; her shoulders slouched.

"Any luck?" asked an unfamiliar voice.

In walked a man she'd never seen before. He was short and dark, and similar to Credenza.

"No, not yet, Dracus," she said, sounding exhausted. "Gwynna doesn't remember much from the old days. I didn't expect much, either. When she came to the Primordials, she was already getting old."

He walked across the room to face her.

"You must find her and the stone because she's your only hope! Lastly, you must get the grimoire back. I don't understand how you could be so careless!"

"I know that!" she shouted. "I've searched and searched. There's not much more that I can do."

She stood up and walked to the window, where she peered down into the lush forest below.

When Credenza looked up, Starr's consciousness saw the tops of trees extend for miles under the cold gray sky.

"I have a sneaking suspicion that you're not going to find her or the stone in any land," the man said to her back. "What if the Primordials aren't telling us everything?"

~~~

She woke, once more, just as frozen as she was before.

Someone was back again. Their footsteps walked over her spot several times.

Starr couldn't stand it anymore, being trapped there. Despite the risk that the person might be a Primordial, she psychically cried out.

Help me! I'm right here; I can't move my body!

There was a murmuring above.

Then, finally, there was a heavy sifting noise.

After a few minutes, the snow on her body got lighter; sky light bled through her eyelids.

Tears of relief leaked out of the corners of her eyes.

The weight of the snow became considerably lighter, but her body was still like an ice cube.

As the snow thinned out, she sensed that the people digging were familiar to her.

More tears leaked out as she realized that one of them was Shane. She couldn't get a read on the other person though.

Yeah, it's me, Shane spoke into her mind.

I can't move my body! My eyes and mouth are frozen shut.

Just relax. We're getting you out.

So solid, she was that she didn't even feel when they'd placed their hands on her and lifted her out of the grave.

She heard them walk off. Though she knew Shane would never abandon her, she panicked.

The sound of sticks dropping came, and some heavy thuds. Relief.

Suddenly, a shocking orange color attacked the lids of her eyes.

"MMMMMMMMMmmmmm!!!!!" she screamed through frozen lips.

Painfully, heat attacked every cell of her body.

She screamed again and again.

Thawing was a most painful event, even for a vampire. Her muscles throbbed worse than anything she'd ever experienced. Pain from her joints shot out like knives through her body.

An hour later, she slowly, painfully drew back her eye lids, only to shut them again. The moon was so white-ish that it hurt.

Before she shut them, she got a quick glimpse of the man who accompanied Shane: Kris, the German albino.

After a while, she was able to move her lips. However, when she tried to open her jaw, it was like trying to bend a frozen steak. She needed to thaw from the inside out.

The sharp toned sound of crackling wood attacked her thawing ear drums.

"Sorry," said Kris.

~~~

The next morning, Starr was pretty thawed out, though still pretty stiff.

She tried to stand, but fell, hard, back to the ground.

Shane and Kris woke.

"Sorry," she said, "just testing out my legs."

Kris sat up and tossed more wood into the fire.

"So, how'd you guys find me?"

"Psychic cry out," said Shane. "I heard you call for help. Of course I can't fly, so I went to Boston to find someone to help me get here."

"Did you find Emil?"

"Who?" she asked, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"The guy I came here with. He works with the Black Fleet."

"We searched the entire mountain," said Kris, "but we only sensed you."

Although they tried to talk her out of it, Starr insisted that they search for Emil. Hours later, they'd made it back to the peak where they were initially hit by the avalanche.

"Starr, there's no one here," said Shane.

"What if he is, but we just can't detect him. You couldn't detect me when I was buried."

"We could sense your presence, but we just couldn't pinpoint exactly where you were. Extreme cold has the tendency to throw off vampire sensing abilities, but I don't believe that Emil is here," said Kris.

"If that's true, than Emil just left me here to freeze, forever," Starr said, trying not to sound upset.

"Not necessarily. He's a young weak fledgling; perhaps he went for help. It would take him a lot longer to get down the mountain than other vampires."

"If we're wrong, he could be up here for years."

"We can come back and search in the spring, but, right now, we need to get out of here. Another storm will be coming," Kris said, sounding worried. "This is, after all, only February."

"I can't leave; I need to get to Valhol."

"Starr, if you go on, and you should get into trouble, we may not be able to help you. As it is, getting this far was quite a struggle," Shane said with exasperation.

"I have to go on because I need to find out what Credenza is up to. Lucenzo said I'm the only thing stopping her from getting back her soul."

Shane's voice slightly quavered, as she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"While I was under the ice, I was able to connect with him. He explained to me that the Primordials are not the same as vampires. We are different."

"How?" asked Shane.

"They're another race, altogether. Vampires are what happened when they gave humans their blood." Kris answered. "What humans became, after, was unforeseen."

"Why did they give humans their blood?"

"The Primordials were dying out. Only a few were ever able to conceive with humans, likely due to genetic mutations. They gave humans their blood because they were hoping to make them immortal and strong, like them. Plus, in a way, their blood would always live in humans, symbolically keeping the Primordials alive always."

"But what's this got to do with Credenza?" asked Shane.

"Well, as Lucenzo explained it, drinking Primordial blood kills the host, departing the soul from the body. The soul is pure energy, and something that Primordials don't have; it's also something that humans lose, once they drink the blood and, in a sense, die. Credenza has figured out a way to bring back her soul from the beyond. She believes that reuniting her soul with her body will make her the most powerful vampire in the world. Neither man nor machine will be able to kill her. He claims that it was Credenza all along behind the vampire apocalypse, and that she's got plans to try again."

"But Credenza is Primordial," said Kris. "She can't have a soul. It's impossible because they're immortals."

"Yes, but she's only half. She was born with a soul, just like Lucenzo and Fernand were. They, too, drank Primordial blood and changed: died."

"But they're not so strong that we can't stop them?" asked Shane.

"Not yet; every half Primordial has different strengths and weaknesses, but if she gets her soul back, the world will be doomed."

Starr paused a moment to let her words take effect, and then said, "Now, for some reason, she needs Lucenzo, who is still there, in Valhol. I saw her try to make some kind of deal with him while he was in prison."

"So, what's your plan?" asked Kris.

"I'm gonna break him out."

"Starr!" Kris said loudly. "You could piss off a whole bunch of Primordials! They can kill you with just a thought!"

The snowy inclines around them vibrated with the sound of Kris' voice.

Instinctively, Starr grabbed Shane by the elbow and was about to fly off with her, but then the snow seemed to settle.

When she was sure they weren't about to be buried, she said, "Well, what choice do I have? Credenza will be coming for me, of that I'm sure. I don't know what she wants with me, but that's the message Lucenzo keeps sending."

She paused a moment while the snow beneath their feet shifted again.

"One way or another, I may not come out of this alive. I could never beat Credenza, physically, so my only chance for survival is foiling whatever plans she's got. "

They simply stared at her, looking doubtful.

"Well," she said. "I'm gonna get going. Thanks so much for rescuing me. We'd better get off this peak," she said as the snow started to shift again.

She levitated a foot off the ground before Shane said, "Hey, wait. We're coming, too."

Shane leapt off the ground, grabbing her elbow, followed by Kris.
Finding Valhol
Chapter 3

They took off into the air just as another avalanche came down. When they reached a safe peak, they decided to walk for a while.

"The density of this part of atmosphere is why it feels like we're being weighed down, when flying," Kris explained.

Throughout the day, it never stopped snowing. Temperatures continued to drop the higher they got. Even worse than the weather was the scene that never seemed to change: it was just miles and miles of blinding white rising. Starr was relieved when twilight approached because she'd begun to see color spots everywhere she looked.

At midnight, they found themselves out of ground to walk. They faced a rock peak that went straight up into the blanketed clouds.

Starr couldn't help but smile because she recognized it from her dreams.

Kris looked over at her and shouted through the wind, "You can't be serious. This is it?"

"I saw it every time Credenza flew home!" she yelled back.

"I'm scared," said Shane.

"Don't be; it's perfectly safe. We fly up a few miles, and then Valhol will appear just above the cloud layer.

Shane looked as if she would throw up.

"You can't turn back, now," Starr yelled. "Also, we can't leave you here! If you don't trust me, look inside my mind! This is where we need to be."

Shane considered her a moment, and then held out her hands for both Kris and Starr to grab.

They soared up into the icy cold comforter of whiteness. In the cloud, they felt even more especially dense, as the temperature and ice tried to weigh them down again.

After an hour, Starr was really tired and starting to wonder how much longer she could continue.

When Starr started to slow down, Kris fought hard to keep all three of them rising. His inner demon had even come out.

Finally, an hour later, the atmosphere changed. It became lighter and the temperature increased a few degrees.

Then just as Starr was thinking she couldn't go on, they emerged from the dense layers of clouds. They almost flew right past Valhol.

When they landed on the peak, they fell to their knees with exhaustion. Kris looked like he'd been beaten; even Shane, though she didn't fly, looked like she'd endured hours of torture.

Out of human habit, Starr inhaled and choked. There was hardly oxygen that high up; not that they breathed anymore. Still, it was interesting to know that oxygen was necessary to speak.

"This is it," Starr said hoarsely. "It's just how I saw it."

"Yes," said Kris with gravel to his voice, too. "Lucenzo's here, alright, but..." he trailed off.

"What?" asked Shane who also sounded husky.

"Something's wrong. I can smell him from here, and his scent has a touch of rot to it."

Starr said, "Let's go."

"Wait," said Shane. "Someone knows we're here. He's waiting for us."

"Who?" asked Starr.

"I don't know, but he doesn't seem like he wants to harm us. And I'd do anything to get out of the cold, even just for a bit."

"I second that," said Kris. "Are you sure he's not dangerous?"

"Yes, he says he's been waiting for us; for Starr."

They grabbed Shane's hands and flew over the wall. They landed on the grass, and walked up the entrance, past the same sculptures and over the same bridge from her dream.

She walked fast until they made it to the diagonal alley that led to the city center.

They stopped, for a moment, at a fork she didn't recognize.

"Left," said Shane.

"How do you know?" asked Starr.

"A true and powerful telepath can glean memories, even if you don't remember them," Kris answered for her.

They found themselves in the center city structure where they entered through the side door, just like in her visions.

Candles lit a long dark hall. There were no decorations, only plain stone floor, walls, and ceiling that went for a few hundred feet.

At the end of the hall was a thick wood door. Starr grabbed the latch in the middle, and pushed.

On the other side of the door was a hall of jail cells with bars made of gold.

"Plain metal is like plastic to a Primordial," said Kris.

They walked down the hall.

In the last cell on the end, they spotted Lucenzo's orange-red hair splayed out on a blood stained white furry pouf. His rib cage had been ripped open, and the top of his cranium had been broken open. Beside him, lay his heart and brain; both of which were half eaten.

Overcome with disappointment, she almost didn't notice the familiar face of a man who sat on Lucenzo's bed.

The man wore a royal blue suit and black horn rimmed glasses. Unlike most Primordials, he wore his hair short.

He stood up and said, "I've been waiting for you."
Too Old to Care
Chapter 4

Stelar seemed like a mild mannered man. He walked with grace that contradicted the strength and age of his flesh and bones.

"What happened?" asked Starr.

"Lyssa did this," he said.

"Where is she, now?"

"She's not here; otherwise, Vidar would have killed her on the spot. Lucenzo was the only son he ever really loved."

"Why doesn't he go after her? She's out of control," asked Kris.

"Vidar rarely leaves Valhol anymore. Besides, can you imagine a seven and a half foot man with wild eyes circling the Earth?"

"But you said Lucenzo was the only son he ever loved," said Shane.

"He's lost many sons and daughters over the millenniums; it's a part of life. He's upset, but not that upset."

"Lucenzo said Credenza has plans to try and take over the world," said Starr. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Do you know how many people have, essentially, ruled the Earth? She'll just be another empress. Believe it or not, there's been many, though your history books don't recognize them all."

"So you're just gonna stay here on your lofty peak while the world is destroyed?"

"Overdramatic little thing, aren't you," he said, as if talking to a child. "And arrogant, too. The world won't be destroyed; it'll go on and on. Man conquers man, as it has always been and always will. Whether we interfere or not, tomorrow, there will just be another battle. We have a right to retire in peace."

"But you interfered that day on the road, when you apprehended Lucenzo," Starr reminded him.

"I," he stressed, "didn't do anything. Vidar arrested Lucenzo for violating the one rule we have: We don't interfere with the ways of man. Creating those nasty vampires was an abomination."

"Fine, but maybe you can answer a question for me: Lucenzo says I'm preventing Credenza from getting her soul. Do you know what that means?"

"I don't know. She never confided in us. For the third time, this is merely a resting place, now. We don't bother with people's business."

"I know she has living quarters here. May I see them?"

"No, you may not," he said angrily.

Starr was about to argue when Shane spoke into her mind.

Don't, she said. He won't change his mind. He wants to ask us to stay. We 'll sneak out later, tonight.

Just as Shane said this, Stelar asked, "Why don't you stay for the night? You look like you've had a rough journey. Some others would like to meet you."

They followed Stelar out of the jail, up several flights of stairs. On the fourth landing, he led Shane and Kris to a room, and then, finally, Starr.

Stelar walked in and leaned against the wall.

"You still don't recognize me, do you?" he asked.

"Should I?" she asked, as she walked to the window and looked out.

"The Royal Library, Denmark?"

She looked at him, and it came to her. She'd also seen him at the little pub, before that.

"Why have you been following me?"

He stood up and walked to the fireplace, where, suddenly, flames came to life. Heat shocked the room, making her skin tingle.

Stelar stared at her a moment. He opened his mouth to say something, but then froze.

"Yes," said Starr.

"Get some rest. A servant will come get you when dinner is ready."

"That's not what you were going to say."

But Stelar ignored her, and closed the door as he left.

Starr peeled off her heavier clothes, leaving on her underwear and a tee shirt, and climbed into the old bed. The frame was made of wood and layered with a large hand sewn, straw stuffed cushion. It was the itchiest thing she'd ever slept on.

Later that day, in the early evening, a woman knocked on the door.

"Yes?" called Starr.

The door opened. In walked a young girl, but Starr could tell by her eyes that she was very old.

She put a wash basin on the stone shelf.

"Cocktails will be served down in the lounge room."

After explaining how to get there, she left.

Starr splashed water on her face.

There was another knock at her door.

She pulled back the heavy creaking wood. Shane and Kris stood there.

"Want to walk down together?" she asked.

Down the stairs and a couple dark halls, they went.

In a large stone lounge stood Stelar and three other men whom Starr had only glimpsed once in the past. Like the rest of the castle, it was dark and chilly. In the corner stood ancient yellowed statues of gods while rich, but old, worn tapestries hung on the wall.

A large fire was ablaze in the fireplace.

One of the men who stood there with a glass in his hand was Vidar. He appeared on the side of the road, the night Lucenzo was taken into custody. Just like that night, he had strange orange colored irises that moved fluidly across its surface.

Stelar turned around and introduced them to the Primordials. The man whom Stelar called Arin looked at Starr with wide green eyes. "You look a lot like Lyssa," he said, looking her up and down.

"Who?" asked Shane.

"Louisa," replied the dark haired man, Eydis. "Names, like languages, change. In our day, she was known by the Greek name, Lyssa."

"And you're Kris," said Vidar with much interest in his voice. "I've heard much about you."

"Yes, I was at the boarding school with Lucenzo, before the Germans came."

"I know. I was very angry with him for going to America, rather than returning home."

"He had no choice," said Valdis who was almost as fair as Kris. "They attacked in the night. Would you really see him fight alongside those filthy Germans?"

"I'd have rather he'd have come home."

"Friend," said Eydis, interrupting. "How did you come by eyes like that?"

"They're blue. They only look lavender because they're very light against the vessels in my eyes; it's an optical illusion."

A lady came in and announced that the table was ready.

The Primordials lead them into the dining hall.

At a long table, they sat. In the center, a heart and brain had been sliced and garnished.

"Do Primordials drink blood and eat raw flesh?" asked Shane.

"No," said Stelar. "We could, but we don't crave it or need it. These hearts and brains are for you. We understand you must eat and drink regularly, lest you should, what was the term? 'Vamp out?'"

"In my day, we called vamped out vampires wendigos," said Eydis. "They often had to be put down."

A man rolled a cart, with a large spitted lamb, into the room.

It really was an otherworldly sup, with a mixture of sweet and tangy fruits paired with the lamb. On their bread, honey and dates piled like vegetables.

"In our time, vegetables were hard to come by, in this climatic part of the world. We weren't as sophisticated as the Egyptians or the Romans when it came to farming, so fruit was commonly paired with meat," said Valdis, looking at Shane. "It was very warm here, back then. Not cold like it is now. Fruit trees and vines grew of their own accord, without interference from man."

"it's not so bad," she said, spearing a date with a piece of lamb and putting it in her mouth. "They seem to go together quite well."

"Can I have a fork, or spoon? And a knife?" asked Starr.

Eydis laughed, "Why? So we can eat like barbarians, shoveling food into our mouths?"

Starr noticed Vidar kept his eyes on her, though he spoke to others at the tables.

"What?" she asked, feeling annoyed.

"Sestin watched you for many months before you two met. I see his blood is in you, don't you, Stelar?"

"Yes, in fact, I can somewhat smell him on her."

"You, two," she said to Vidar, "were close. Aren't mad that I killed him?"

"No, it was his wish. We can't live forever, Starr; something you seem incapable of accepting," said Vidar.

"You'll learn what we mean, one day, maybe a thousand years from now," said Stelar. "Someday, you'll know what it means to be 'tired.'"

After a moment of silence, Starr asked, "What was Lyssa like, back in your day?"

"Lyssa was always the least liked," Stelar answered. "She was a strong willed child who didn't play well with others. We watched her grow – as we kept tabs on all our interbred children – in a rich palace. Her King and father gave her everything she could want, and she always wanted more."

"After she took initiation with us, she became obsessed with winning back her father's kingdom," said Arin.

"And she did it, too; beat back the Romans. Lyssa was a Queen greater than Cleopatra, for she had a real head for military affairs. Daius thought it shameful, remember?" Stelar laughed. "He thought we should vanquish her territory, bring her back here and bury her."

"Who's Daius?" asked Starr.

"An old cow gone to rest," he replied.

Thinking back to a story she'd been told, she asked, "Madam Balaji, an old vampire, told me a story of a Dacian Queen being dug up in Romania. This old queen betrayed her King, and was buried in shame, with an old scroll accusing the Queen of misdeeds. Lyssa wouldn't happen to be this same Queen, would she?"

They looked at her a minute, then Stelar answered, "We're not sure. Yes, Lyssa was Queen of Dacia, at one point, but we know nothing of this betrayal you speak of."

The table fell silent a moment before she spoke up again.

"Do you know a woman named Gwynna?"

"She was an initiate; Lyssa's only friend. They roomed together, here on Valhol. She was the last witch.... Well, one of the last. There may be more but she was pretty much alone when we took her in. We rescued her from some Romans who planned to crucify her," said Vidar.

The rest of the dinner was filled with small talk. Vidar, especially, was curious to know everything about Starr. He wouldn't stop looking at her with his fluidly dancing irises, like fire in his eyes.

In a weird way, she found him extremely attractive. His gaze reminded her of a feeling she'd gotten from a dream she used to have, repeatedly, as a child. In the dream, there was always a pale faced man with orange eyes who made her feel as she hadn't felt in a long time: it was a certain nostalgia and a feeling of being deeply in love, which was funny considering she'd never had a real relationship before. Also, she was just a child, yet this dream made her feel erotically alive.

A part of her kept wishing he'd stop looking at her, but, after a while, she didn't want him to stop. Not only was he handsome, but he was strong, powerful, and that was alluring to her.

That night, when everyone retired to their rooms, Starr waited an hour before stepping into the hall.

Wait for me, Shane said into her mind.

And me, Kris said.

A second later, they opened their doors and, together, they tip toed down the stairs, through the halls and out of the castle.

Starr led them down another alley she remembered from her dreams.

Like the vampire Bulgari taught her, she focused hard on a blank slate, so as to keep others from detecting her presence.

When they made it to the cobble street of Credenza's old quarters, she looked in all the buildings around her, making sure no one was awake.

Rather than bust in the door, like she'd normally do, she focused on melting the lock inside the door – a form of pyrokinesis.

Gently, she pushed on the door. When it swung back, Starr was struck with a certain nostalgia; almost like she'd been there before.

Inside was dark and still. Somehow, she knew there were candles on the wall, she commanded them to light.

The room was real plain, with only a desk, cabinet, and canopied bed. As she looked around, she got an eerie feeling.

"What's wrong?" asked Shane.

"I'm not sure."

As she walked up to the bed and looked down at the cushions, a feeling that she'd lain there before overcame her. Hair follicles stood on end, all up and down her arms as flashes of Vidar, naked and lying between those very sheets, played themselves in her mind.

"Have you been here before?" asked Shane, reading her mind.

"No, it must be a dream I shared with Lyssa."

"What should we be looking for?" asked Kris.

A foggy memory deep inside her nagging brain, told her to look in the petrified wood cabinet across the room.

"Uh.." she exhaled, walking across the room. "Notebooks, stones, charms, anything out of the ordinary."

She pulled back the heavy petrified wood door. Up that high, microbes were scarce, which was why the wood solidified in such a manner.

On the second to top shelf was a shiny orange and brown tiger eye pendant shaved into the shape of a tooth. Starr's jaw dropped; she was speechless. Once again, she was plagued by a distant memory trying to waken a part of her brain that slept.

Desperately, she tried hard to focus on calling forth the memory.

The tiger stones are abundant today, but in the old days, such a stone was rare. Picking it up, holding it and feeling its smoothness in her palm warmed her heart. She pressed the stone to her chest and closed her eyes, trying to think of Credenza and any visions she might be forgetting, but nothing came.

"Why stones and charms?" asked Shane.

"The visions I got while under the snow was of her searching for something, and someone: me. She already found one thing, a red talisman."

"I don't get it. Why does she need such things?"

"It's witchcraft," Kris replied.

"What?" both Starr and Shane asked.

Starr turned from the cabinet to watch him explain.

"You've never heard of witches using amulets? Charms? While today, all these things are phony, in the old days, witches imbued great power in stones. It was said that when a witch died, or went to semi consciousness, they'd store their powers in precious stones, and bequeath them to loved ones."

"Witches are immortal, too?" asked Shane.

"Pureblooded witches, yes; interbred witches, sometimes."

"You speak of witches as though they're another race," Starr commented.

"That's because they are. Witches were abundant, in the dawn of the Primordials. The two groups were heavily opposed to each other, until they realized their species was dying out."

Starr turned back to the cabinet, considering Kris' words.

Below the shelf where the tiger eye pendant laid was a terribly familiar looking knife in an old worn leather scabbard. The scabbard was sewn into a worn leather harness of some sort. When she ran her finger along it, a shiver traveled up her spine.

"I never imagined that witches were real; that magic was real," said Shane.

"Well, of course. Some say that all myths and urban legends are rooted somewhat in truth," Kris replied.

Starr slipped the tiger eye pendant on the black leather string she got from the SoWa Market, in Boston, weeks ago. Then she tied the scabbard to her arm, and then unsheathed the knife and examined it closely.

She closed the cabinet door and turned.

Her eyes froze on the wood desk and matching cathedra on the other side of the bed. A vision of her sitting there, writing countless letters and memos to people – who she couldn't quite recall, flashed in her mind.

She walked up to the desk and ran her hands along its smooth and hard surface.

"I used to love this, when I was a young girl," she said aloud.

"What?" said Shane, looking at her with wide eyes.

"I have no idea why I just said that."

She scratched her head and looked up at Shane who, in turn, was looking at her with a concerned look on her face.

"Maybe we should go," she said.

"Why? Is someone coming?" Starr asked.

"No, because you seem strange," Shane replied.

"I'm fine."

She began opening all the drawers and flipping through the various notebooks.

Suddenly, Shane said, "Stelar's coming. He's going to arrest us."

"Why didn't you say anything before now?" asked Kris. "Let's get out of here!"

"Because he cloaked himself, so we couldn't detect him. Besides, it's too late.'"

Stelar, accompanied by half a dozen Primordials, appeared in the door way.

Kris said passionately, "You can't arrest us! You say it's just nature that man should war, and you have a right to rest in peace. Well, it's just our nature that we should protect ourselves, because we have a right to exist! You may be done in this world, but we're not!"

"I don't care," said Stelar indifferently. He signaled that the men should apprehend them.

The men grabbed them and forced them back out, through the alleys, to the center castle, and then into a separate jail cell each.

Starr tried to wiggle herself from the grip of the one who held her, but he was too strong.

"How long are you gonna keep us here?" asked Starr, but the Primordials ignored them.

When the Primordials left the jail hall, Kris asked, "Shane?"

"Not long," she answered before he could ask. "In fact, I think this whole thing was a setup. They knew we'd break into Credenza's quarters."

"What do they want?" asked Kris.

"I'm not sure."

That night, Starr fell asleep on her own white furry pouf. Shane snored in the next cell over, while Kris, who never slept anymore, kept himself busy by reading an ancient Latin copy of the Aeneid.

Several hours later, yellow gold bled through her eyelids, bringing her out of slumber.

She stretched and stood.

"Starr?" Shane called.

"Yes?"

"They're coming."

She heard the door open and the sound of footsteps, followed by the door closing.

"Good morning," came Stelar's voice.

He walked up and down the cells, viewing them all. "I'm gonna cut to the chase. No doubt, Shane already knows what we want anyway."

"Which is?" asked Kris.

"We want you to join us."

They remained silent a moment.

"We don't have time for this," said Starr, feeling agitated.

"Too bad," he said uncaringly.

"But doesn't the blood make people crazy?" asked Shane.

"Sometimes," he said.

"I already have Primordial blood in me."

"Look it's either you take the rite, or pay the penalty for breaking our law."

"What's the penalty?" asked Shane.

"Fifteen years in these comfortable cells. Think about it, I'll be back."

"Is he serious?" asked Starr.

"From what I can sense, yes."

"I thought they accepted their fate, dying out and all."

"They have. They all," she stressed, "want to go to rest, but not before one last act."

"What?"

"I'm not sure. There's something they want to do before they die. He's got that part blocked in his mind. This initiation is part of that last act."

Later that day, Stelar came back with three large jewel encrusted goblets, which he set one inside each jail cell.

"You'll need this, so as not to vamp out during initiation. You've all agreed, have you not?"

"What's gonna happen to us, if we do?" asked Shane.

"You'll be fine. We've done this a million times. You'll take the Primordial blood, and then the serum I've prepared will bring you back to normal."

"Why are you forcing this upon us?" asked Kris.

"You'll find that out when the time is right."

He left.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Kris.

"We'll be fine. I've seen the initiation process before; Sestin showed me. Drink your blood, though, you're gonna need it," she sighed, lifting the cup to her lips and taking a deep swallow.

That night neither Starr, nor Kris or Shane, could sleep. Starr stared at the bright moon through the ancient solid gold bars. Briefly, curiously, she stood and pressed her face to the bars.

"What do you guys think I'd need to break one of these bars off?" she asked.

"Starr, don't you dare! Who knows what they'll do to us."

About midnight, she heard the door open and shut. The sounds of footsteps and keys unlocking the jail cells came. Then the guards unlocked Starr's gold door, and guided them to the same altar room she'd dreamed of.

Stelar was standing on the altar with several black velvet cloaks in his hand. He handed one to each of them, and told them to kneel.

He walked up and down the altar, speaking in, what she assumed, was an ancient Primordial language.

He carried a sword, which he tapped on their shoulders. Finally, after an hour he placed a goblet in each of their hands.

She looked to her left. Shane was scared.

It's fine, she said into her mind.

Shane still hesitated. Starr nodded her head at her, indicating she'd be there if anything went wrong.

Kris and Shane took down their glasses. Like she'd dreamt so many times that summer, they fell over.

"Drink it, now, before it loses life," said Stelar. "Don't worry, they'll be fine."

She emptied the cup and fell over.

Her stomach pained her, but not as badly as when she killed Sestin, the Primordial initiate. She heard moans coming from Shane and Kris, but Starr was drawn into another world.

~~~

She tried to open her eyes, but couldn't. Something cool, yet hard and jagged was pressing her lids down tightly. When she tried to move her arms, she panicked; it was almost like she was buried again.

Then there was the sound of something sifting, and she realized there was a moist and earthy smell to whatever it was that pinned her down.

Shaaane??? She psychically cried out.

As the weight that held her down got lighter, she smelled fresh air, and it made her realize that she had, in fact, been buried again.

Afraid to open her eyes, lest she get dirt in them, she said, "Hello? Who are you?"

"SHHHH!!!!" said the figure.

When the dirt got even lighter, she tried to move her arm, to brush away remaining bits of dirt from her eyes. Her hands didn't obey her mind. When she found her arm wouldn't respond, she panicked again. She wasn't frozen, she told herself, so why wasn't her arm working?

The answer to her question came a moment later, when the digger was done. Starr felt the thump of the person jumping into the grave. Whoever it was groaned, as they seemed to be working at something.

A moment later, the person sighed and tossed something out of the grave. Next came the short sound of something being dragged; she could hear the person struggling to climb back out of the grave.

Next moment, soft fingers brushed her face. Granules of dirt flew away.

She opened her eyes. Above, she saw the hand of a body hanging out of the side of a wheel barrel. Recognition that the hand was hers made her choke. Her eyes widened in panic that such a thing was happening to her again.

Then she saw who had dug her up: it was Gwynna.

"Noooo, not again!" she screamed. "Help me!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do? Now, shut it, or we'll both be staked and buried."

The woman grabbed her head and tossed it in the wheel barrel.

"In case we're stopped, play dead!" she whispered, and then covered her with a blanket.

Her body bumped and vibrated as the barrel rolled on.

Sometime later, the wheel barrel stopped. She heard voices.

"What have you got there?" asked a man with a smooth tenor.

"My friend," Gwynna replied. "She's been beheaded and staked."

"And you brought her for last rites?"

"No, look," she said.

Suddenly, the blanket was whisked away, revealing the stars and moon.

"Gwynna," Starr said.

"Don't worry, Lyssa. This is my mentor."

"My name's not Lyssa. Why did you call me that?"

But the woman didn't respond. She and the man picked her parts up and brought her inside the cave.

The next thing she saw was a cavalry of hundreds of men in full army dress. It was late at night, and every other man carried a torch. She looked down and saw that she was draped in a black cloak, and carried a torch in her right hand, too, while her left held the reigns of a horse.

Her brother, Dracus, was there, covered in mesh, and holding a metal shield and torch, as he rode up and down the line of men. He spoke aloud to the crowd, telling them he was going to reward them all by making them a village and giving them land, and sharing the riches of the King.

Right behind Dracus was the palace that she'd spent her whole life in.

When he'd done speaking, he said, "Let's go."

And they made their way up the windy mountain road; Starr followed. Though she didn't know what she was doing, it was like her dream was guiding her.

Several men whom she remembered from her childhood, and who worked in the palace, didn't go up the road with them, but parted and went through the tunnel that she, herself, had escaped through.

Her mind, naggingly, contradicted her, telling her that she didn't know those men at all.

Yes, I do, she told herself. They taught me everything I know, alongside her brother, about sword fighting.

Dracus rode up to her.

"Oh, it's so good to be home. I feel exhilarated! And that stuff you gave me, the other night! What was it? All the sudden, I'm seeing things in a whole new way!"

She smiled.

"Tonight," she said. "We can't lose. Enjoy, brother!"

As they got closer to the palace gates, she felt more and more anxious. Her heart, though it didn't beat, panged her, like it did only when she was extremely nervous.

"This is it," her brother said breathlessly.

The Romans were already ready to charge them, but something caught her eye: someone who stood, staring down at them from atop the palace.

Without a seconds delay, she charged off.

"Lyssa!" she heard her brother call after her.

She ran into the armored men who lined the outside of the gate, slashing them with her sword as she went. To her exhilaration, she was unstoppable; they were no match for her, now that she'd taken Primordial blood.

As dexterous as a cat, she climbed the palace gates, and flung herself up and over the ledge. The men who stood on the other side of the gate looked up in surprise, as she landed on the cobble stone quarry.

A ray of moon flashed her side, softly blinding her. Something her brother taught her to take as warning of an impending action. And, like so, she easily stepped aside, just missing the sword that a man swung at her.

She turned around and blocked a hit.

She smiled because he moved his sword so slowly that she only needed to move side-to-side, to miss him.

This aggravated the man, for he growled loudly, and ran at her as fast as he could. Lyssa easily stood aside again, and slice his torso clean off.

A few of the others froze at the sight of the completely severed man.

No time to waste, she thought.

She pulled the twenty foot barricade out of the door, and tossed it like it was nothing more than a javelin. Lyssa opened the gate, and then ran across the quarry.

Several men came directly at her, but she kept flinging her sword in a figure eight, left to right, splitting their bodies with too much ease. It wasn't even close to a fair fight.

She approached the palace doors, which, even if it was barred, her father, King Decebalus, made sure it was so thick and heavy that it would take a battering ram.

Running, she leapt into a flying kick, and busted a large hole into the door. A crack ran straight up and down.

Someone put their hands around her neck and attempted to drag her back, but they might as well have be choking a statue. She whipped around and flung her sword right to left, breaking through his sword, and splitting his neck.

Quickly, Lyssa grabbed the man's severed head by its bloodied end, and used the jagged metal part of his helmet like a hatchet, in order to worsen the crack.

She ran up several flights of stairs, and went down the landing to the door to the roof.

King Decebalus was not there.

A man pulled his sword and ran at her.

She waited until he got really close, then stepped back. Although she meant to block his attack, she accidentally cut off his hand.

Another man lunged out at her, jabbing at her. First, he aimed for her kidney, when she pommeled him, he glided toward her, moving his sword continuously – a technique that took much work. If she were human, she would've been in trouble. Now, she merely walked backward side stepping, traversing.

Diligently, he glided closer and closer to her. Such movement required strength to keep up, and it didn't take long for him to slow down. At which point, she rammed her sword into his side.

From behind, the one whose hand she cut off moaned.

She walked up to him.

"I won't kill you, if you tell me where's Imperator Trajan?" she shouted.

"He's in the walls!" the man cried.

The entrance to the walls were back inside. Her father had it constructed, in case the castle was ever stormed.

She ran back inside the castle, but she couldn't reach the wall entrance because someone was shaking her.

She opened her eyes, and saw black horn rimmed glasses.

"Stelar?"

They were in her room in the Valhol castle. He sat beside her, as she lay in bed.

"How do you feel?"

She sat up.

"Like I've been drenched in dopamine, and I can't come down."

She rubbed her eyes.

"That's normal," he said.

He had a little flash light pen in his hands.

"I'm just gonna take a look," he said.

He reached over, and, pulling her eye lids back, pointed the light in her eyes.

"You seem to be taking it much more easily than Shane and Kris, likely because you've already Primordial blood; Primordial blood from a host that took my antidote."

"Uh, huh," she said. It was all she could say, before falling back to sleep again.

Later that afternoon, the same young girl entered her room. She laid a cloak on the end of her bed, and announced that a funeral pyre was to be lit at noon.

She got up, splashed water on her face and put on the cloak; then she went to Shane's room.

When she didn't answer, she walked in and found her out cold on the bed.

She sat beside her and shook her. "Shane," she said lightly.

After a few moments, she opened her eyes.

"I'm so groggy," she said.

"You gotta get up. They're gonna have rite for Lucenzo in a few minutes."

As she dragged herself out of bed, Starr went next door to Kris. His door was already open, and he stood at the window looking out.

"Hi, Starr. How do you feel?" he asked without turning to look at her.

"I had some pretty intense dreams, but, otherwise, I'm fine. You?"

"I feel sick, but it's so different, the blood. I thought I was psychotic, when I was turned into a vampire, but this being turned into a Primordial is different. I feel like a butterfly, in metamorphosis."

She walked to the window and stood beside him. Looking out, she saw the thick cloud of blanket they flew through stretch for miles.

Shane, cloaked, entered the room. Kris put on his cloak as well, and they went downstairs, and out to the city center where a huge pyre had been built, and layered in wood and straw.

Stelar was there in a red ceremonial robe. Behind them stood a few dozen Primordials Starr had never met before.

When the pyre was done, several men carried Lucenzo's body out. His normal clothes had been removed, and replaced with a simple linen tunic, much like Sestins; then Stelar gave a eulogy.

"For those who don't know him, Lucenzo was, truly, a great son and man. He was a lover of life and adventure. Born late to the Primordials, he gave our race new perspective. He went out into the world and brought back the ways of men, forged allies, and extended the dying out phase of our kind. Now he lies where all men will go eventually. There," he said, rising his hands to them all, and they joined in, chanting, "he sees his mother, there he sees his brothers and sisters, and there the line of our people go back to the beginning. They call to him; take him to his place in the hall of gods where the true and the brave live forever. May he find peace, and love in heaven."

Starr recalled the old prayer from somewhere in her memory.

They stopped for a moment and bowed their heads. Then he continued, "Let us remember that death is as great as life. We'll not mourn because we'll be together, all of us, witch, man, Primordial, together in the end."

He took a moment and whispered some blessings over the body, as they stood and watched. Then he stepped down from the pyre.

Vidar walked up to the front where the kindling was gathered. With the torch he held, he leant over and lit the pyre.

After Lucenzo's body had fully succumbed to the flames, Stelar invited them back to the altar room where he would administer his serum.

Starr, not needing antidote, was excused.

The early evening, she dined with several of the ancient ones. Though they invited her, they weren't much for conversation, and she could tell by their age that they didn't need to eat. They only did so out of tradition and respect for the dead.

Like statues, they sat, in matching white linen robes, and not bothering to lower their hoods; their faces hardly visible by the candle light.

Thankfully, Vidar came and sat beside her. "Don't worry," he said. "The ancients are weary. They speak no more than they have to."

"Why are they still here? I get the feeling they'd rather be moving on?"

But Vidar said nothing, and put a piece of bread in his mouth and chewed.

After dinner, he asked her to take a walk with him. He lead her through the city, down some alleys and over to the bridge from her vision.

"You know, I keep having visions of you. They're not mine, they're Lyssa's."

"I know," he said, looking her in the eyes. Then he did something unexpected: he pulled her hand into both of his, and kissed the back of it in a tenderly fashion. Looking at him, so hardened, old, and pale, he hardly seemed the type for romanticism anymore.

Starr didn't question it, rather she felt exhilarated by it. She squeezed his hand back.

"I feel so connected to her. She was in love with you, I think." she asked, "Do I remind you of her?"

"When she was young, she was much like you. Don't ask me to explain, as it's not important. Let's just say that things changed. For a long time, I wished that things were like they were before."

"Before what?" she asked, despite him.

He said nothing. Vidar put his arm around her and drew her into an embrace that was so warm, despite the cold temperature of his stone-like body.

"Why does no one answer my questions, here?" she asked, as she wrapped her arms, unquestioningly, around his waist and sighed.

A few moments they stood there, holding each other. He gently nudged her chin upward, and kissed her lightly.

"That was nice, but it's not me you want; it's Lyssa."

She pulled away from him, and went back to her room.

About midnight, there was a knock at her door. She climbed out of bed, and opened it.

Kris and Shane walked in, bursting with energy.

"How are you guys?" Starr asked concernedly.

Their faces were rosy, and their eyes were bright. Around them, a certain aura glowed hazily.

"I take it, you guys got your serum?" she asked.

"I can fly, now!" Shane said with the widest smile ever.

"Why, Shane, I've never ever seen you smile before."

"I know! I'm feeling emotions like I haven't felt since I was turned."

"And you, Kris?"

"I haven't felt so good in years. I just looked in the mirror, and my cheeks are pink. Can you see it?"

"Actually, your skin is rosy all over."

"Oh it's sad that you can't feel this! It's amazing!" he said. "The moon; it's so full tonight, and the craters are so clear. Surely, I'd normally need a telescope to see such things! Come here and look!" he said excitedly, motioning to Shane.

Shane jumped off the bed and said, "Let's watch the moon outside!"

She bolted out of the room, followed by Kris.

Starr sat there a moment, and then decided to go after them. They ran through the streets, past a group of Primordials lining an alley. They appeared to be in prayer, and didn't flinch as they ran, noisily, by.

Shane leapt into the air and flew through the buildings; Kris and Starr followed. They touched down in the front of the city, where Starr watched them continue to jump and fly about, as if they children. They flipped and did cartwheels across the lawn, and laughed hysterically. Then, out of the blue, Kris swan dived into the koi pond.

Shane, giggling, followed. Amazingly enough, the fish were not new to such behavior, for they swam confidently, even leaping in the air, side by side, with Shane and Kris.

Starr watched them from the bridge, until she heard something in a building at the very back of the castle. It was the clinking of glass, no jars, she corrected herself.

Stelar was sending her visions of the clock tower, in which there was a basin and many shelves cluttered with colorful things she couldn't make out.

Leaving Shane and Kris behind, she walked back down the city lane, past the Primordials and up to the clock tower.

He was there, still in his ceremonial robe, and he was sifting through dusty orbs and stones of every color.

"So are we gonna talk?"

Without looking at her, he said, "Yes, but, first, I need to find something."

He rummaged through a few different shelves, tossing things on the floor; some breaking and others just rolling a way.

"You want to tell me something?"

He stopped rummaging a moment, and said, "Although it isn't my right to interfere, I do feel that in this war, I'm on your side, more so than Lyssa. We all do, in fact. We discussed it earlier."

"Soo?"

"So, I want to give you something to help you fight. It's something she's been looking for. Gwynna left it, here, a long time ago, before she went to rest," he said, turning back to the shelves.

Looking down at the color crystalline stones, she thought back to what Kris said in jail, and asked, "Are these witches' powers?"

"Yes. I see, from your mind, that Kris explained somewhat about them. You see, the witches view consciousness and death differently than Primordials do," he said as he moved down the shelf, still rummaging. "Rather than go into unconsciousness, which sometimes – and like us – they do, they kill themselves by rite. You see, witches aren't what people think they are, today. Real witches were descendants of sentient beings, those who like gods didn't need bodies. They were spirit, and as the world evolved, so did the witches, although some would say they devolved, that the spiritual world is where we should all be, without body or limitations. However, that is another matter altogether," he said, huffing on a particularly dusty red marble. "My point is when they died, they and their consciousness returned to the abyss beyond, or heaven as some would describe, but, sometime, at the end of the Stone Age, a witch named Abatha separated her magic from her body, killing her, but saving the power in an ancient amulet. Ah ha," he said.

From the top shelf, he pulled down a brilliant green emerald. Its surface was so clear and smooth that it might have been glass.

"This is what Lyssa was is looking for. This, supposedly, belonged to that witch, Abatha, one of the first and most powerful of her kind – in human form. She was the distant mother relative of Gwynna's. Power to these old witches is like blood in a human's veins; they can't live without it."

He handed the green orb to her.

"It's supposed to be very powerful," he said. "While there were lots of witches to come after, she was the last of those born from the arcane. More than a pure blood witch, but born from the chaos, from the gods, as the Greeks would tell you. And this is her power, though I don't know how it works. How you would use it. For that, you're on your own."

"What about the talisman that she has now? Whom did that come from?"

He looked at her, and shook his head.

"I don't know that which you speak of; although there are many dwellings where powers lay. In caves, in the Earth, some are lost at sea. Mostly, in the Stone Age, witches were cave dwellers. Whatever she has, I assure you that it didn't come from here."

They fell silent a moment, as she turned the stone over in her hand. Warmly, it glowed, making her feel calm relaxed, and in control.

"I see you're feeling the effects of having someone's life force in your hand; it influences you. So be careful when making choices."

"What do I do with it?"

"Protect it with your life. Don't let her get it, or she'll kill you. I hate to put it this way, but the fate of the world does rest on your shoulders. Stay away from her, don't go near her."

She jerked her eye upward in surprise.

"You're telling me to retreat?"

"Have you read the grimoire?"

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Start there, but, whatever you do, don't go after Lyssa. Go home, to the kids. Lyssa will come for you when the time has come. I can see from mind that you aren't prepared to fight, just yet. Don't rush, or you'll lose this war. She's still more powerful than you, by age -millenniums – something we can't give you."
Search On
Chapter 5

Several days later, Shane and Kris having returned to a state of normalcy, they stood in the town center where the other Primordials ceremoniously bade them goodbye.

She thought about Stelar's words over those couple of days, but was decided that there was no way she'd wait for Lyssa. People were dying, now.

As they stood outside the city walls, Vidar presented a sheathed sword to Starr. The sheath was encrusted with rubies, the likes of which she'd never seen before.

"I don't need it anymore, and I heard, from Lucenzo, that you're quite good with weapons. I'd like to add one more to your collection, because I know you'll either use them, or value them."

He drew the sword, which gleamed under the light of the sun. The color of the blade was pale yellow.

"Before the blood," he said, "You would've never been strong enough to wield this, for its forged from the finest gold, what we used to fight with. We'd blend it with titanium, the strongest natural metal in the world, making it fine for a king, but strong enough for battle."

Speechless, she nodded to him and stepped to the side. He understood her completely, and pulled his own sword from his belt, and followed her.

Starr didn't know how, but her instincts told her that she knew how to sword fight. She spun the handle in her hand, swinging the blade in a warm up fashion. It was perfectly balanced, perfectly smooth, unlike anything she'd ever touched; although she'd never actually touched anything like it before, she reminded herself.

Once more, she wrote off her strange feelings of nostalgia, as being Lyssa's.

They circled each other a few times, before he stepped in and thrusted her. After blocking several lunges and near cuts, she was pleased, even the sound of the striking swords made her smile.

She opened her mouth to thank him, but he interrupted her.

"It's not necessary. My time's at an end, and yours is just beginning. You don't realize what kind of battle you're getting into. You're gonna need the best weapons. We, last remaining Primordials, have faith in you."

"Will we see other ever again?"

"Maybe."

He leant in and kissed her on the cheek. Putting his arm around her shoulder, he guided her back to her friends.
More Questions
Chapter 6

Underneath the cloak, she buckled the sheath around her waist. Then, one by one, they leapt off the cliff and fell, down, through the cloud blanket.

Kris and Shane caught up to Starr, as they descended.

"I think you should know that the Primordials are planning to go into permanent rest. Like, that's it, fully extinct kind of thing," Shane shouted through the icy layer.

"I know, Vidar told me."

She noticed they both wore medallions made of gold.

"What are those?"

"Gifts. You didn't see them because you were with Vidar," shout Kris.

"What are you gonna do now?"

"I'm gonna go find Lyssa."

"Stelar warned us that you were planning to do that. We agree with Stelar; we think you should come home. We'll have a look at the grimoire together. We'll find a secret place for the emerald."

"I can't. What kind of person would I be? Leading danger back to the kids?"

"You can come to my house," offered Kris.

"No, I don't like Fernand hanging around."

"So you're just gonna go to Romania, to the Council, find Lyssa and fight? Not much of a plan. She's just as strong, and stronger than you. She's also got an army behind her. You need a plan. You need to take time and figure this out."

After thinking about it, Starr agreed. She needed to figure how she was going to fight Lyssa. It wasn't just a simple matter of going to her and putting her in her place. She was old, and if Starr opposed her, they'd fight to the death. Lyssa wouldn't have it any other way.

But at the bottom of the mountain, they heard a panic somewhere. There was the ultimate feeling of something wrong.

"Do you feel that?" asked Starr.

"Yeah, I think we need to get home as fast as we can. It's a psychic cry out."

Starr, Shane and Kris flew all night, only landing on the banks of Lake George the next morning.

The ground was blanketed with a foot of snow. They ran up the hill to the mesa top where they'd spent the summer.

The windows were shattered and the gate was broken in. Drag marks and glass was everywhere. They ran into the house and looked around.

Starr ran upstairs, and through each and every empty bedroom. Everything was smashed up, and on the lamp table in her room, a hand written note laid.

"Bring the book, and we'll release the kids. Signed, the Council."

"What?" Shane spat, back down in the kitchen. "The Council is behind this?"

"I saw her and Dracus, her brother, in the Council castle, but I just can't believe the Black Fleet has anything to do with this. It just isn't their style."

"Let's have a look at that book," said Kris.

"I already read it; there's nothing there. Stelar was mistaken."

"He was not mistaken. You must've missed something. And even if he was wrong, Lucenzo told you the same thing: start with the grimoire. Now, we look again."

He held his hand out to her, beckoning with his fingers, to bring forth the book.

She pulled it from her pocket and handed it to him.

~~~

It was torture waiting there while he read through it.

"Well?" asked Starr, an hour later.

"Well, it's a book of spells."

"I know that," said Starr irritably.

"Well, it's got an old rite in it, a step by step, if you will on how to call a departed soul. How could you have missed this?"

"I just..." she stuttered. "Had a lot going on. What's so important about that spell?"

"There's a whole month, here, where the author writes about the problems with necromancy, and calling a soul. One: you need to have several types of blood. Two: you need a ring of witches. Three: you need a powerful amulet."

"Okay," she said, getting impatient.

"Okay, so there is a foot note with extra asterisks. Apparently once the soul departs, it's no longer attached to the body; therefore, it moves onto new hosts. The soul can't be in someone else's body; otherwise, the spell won't work."

"So she's looking for someone: the new host," Starr said, the sound comprehension in her voice. "I dreamt she was looking for someone and something. I just assumed it was me, but it must be someone else. I'm dead, technically. My soul is gone."

But he remained silent, looking at an invisible point in the room, contemplating.

"What?" she asked.

"Well, you said Lucenzo said you're the only person keeping her from getting a soul, right?"

"Yes."

"What if you had her soul? I mean, think about it, you've been having all these nostalgic feelings; more than just your blood connection. You've been confused as to why she's paid such close attention to you. What if you had her soul, and, for some reason, she saved you because she needed you?"

She thought back to all the strange things, all the feelings, she'd been having.

"It makes sense, and, to tell the truth, I've considered this before. I just didn't think it was real. Still, I don't have a soul anymore, Kris. So it can't be only me she's after; it's got to be some girl."

"A baby," said Shane. "You've been a vampire two years now."

"Oh man, this sucks. So, now, we not only have to protect someone, but we have to go after a baby?"

"Your attitude is surprising. Remember," said Kris. "The baby is, basically, you. You're the empty shell of that child."

"Just thinking about it makes my head hurt."

"Okay, well, we need to figure out how we're gonna get the kids back," said Shane. "I know it's shocking, Starr, but let's try to stay focused."

"Yes, you're right. What are we gonna do?"

"Not we, but you," said Kris.

"Huh," they asked together.

"None of us are strong enough to take Lyssa or her men. So one of us needs to hang back, in chase she double crosses us somehow. I think that person who hangs back is to be you."

"I don't like it," she said. "My life is on the line, anyway. Let me go, and you, two, hang back."

"She is you; you are her. I don't believe in destiny, but Stelar told me it's yours. Your destiny is to fight her and win. And if she double crosses us, we'll be with the kids, making sure they're okay. If Stelar was right, you'll come back and save us all, in the end," he said.

"And remember," said Shane. "You've got the Abatha crystal. He told you to protect it. Lyssa can't get it, or the world is done for."

Waiting
Chapter 7

Quickly, she descended from the sky. She was unable to believe what she was feeling. It was alive, and it, too, was terribly familiar to her; tears welled up in her eyes. Her soul; it was nearby. It was angry, it was hungry, and it was confused.

Using remote viewing – a form of telepathy, she looked into the condo on the top floor. Inside was a normal, but cramped home. A woman rocked a baby while a man made dinner for them.

They were a young, normal couple; no more than mid thirties. The baby sensed Starr's presence, for, as soon as she looked at the baby with her consciousness, it looked up and stopped crying.

The baby reached out its tiny fist, and tried to touch her.

From nowhere, and for no reason, tears well up in her eyes. Her soul was so pure. She wondered if other vampires had met their soul counterparts before, and found them so emotionally unstabling.

Now she just needed to figure out what to do. She couldn't stay there, standing in the street, shrouded in her ancient cloak and armed for a Roman battle.

In the third condo over, she sensed that it was vacant. Quickly, she ran into the condo hallway, and up the stairs to the fifth floor. She pushed the knob just so, breaking the lock.

Inside, she sat on the carpet in the living room and watched the family, remotely, wondering if Kris and Shane were okay.

If she hurts any of them... She muttered to herself.

Even though Starr knew she and Lyssa might be one in the same; that Starr might share the heart and skill of the warrior Queen, she still worried. Yes, she felt like she'd lived through battles before, but that was only through Lyssa, which was like a distant memory. Sure, Kris said to trust in the power that they shared, but she wasn't sure that it would help. Lyssa was a thousand times stronger, and had an army of vampires behind her.

Her throat clenched, as did her fists. How could she be so stupid as to think the Black Fleet was really on her side. And what really happened to Emil? Back in Grindewald?

Starr stood and sighed, long and hard. Walking to the window, she noticed the partial moon gleaming brightly, reminding her of how Kris and Shane leapt into the koi pond and swam with the fishes. She leaned her forehead against the cold glass.

There was a strong warming against her leg, coming from her pocket. She pulled out the palm sized emerald and looked it over.

Suddenly, she felt confident, more so than she had in days. She'd be ready for her when she came, Starr told herself. Now, she was Primordial, too; now, they were equals. Lyssa might have millenniums on her, but she had the Abatha stone.

Syncing Essences

Vampin Book Series #15

By Jamie Ott
Copyright   2012 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used without written permission.

Black Crowe (Robert Crowe) Industries.

Publication Date: 8/29/2012

For all inquiries, please contact passionateprose@mail.com.
So Far Gone
Chapter 1

Over the past few weeks, many voices whispered in her mind. They were the cries of scared and dying vampires. "Beware" was often the message they'd send. Starr, as terrible at mind control as she was, couldn't block out the messages. Like Shane and Mica, the voices nearly drove her to the brink of crazy sometimes. Only when she was training for battle was her mind focused so that she couldn't hear them.

Even worse than the psychic cries were the vamps who showed up on a daily basis. She would've rather been on her own. Repeatedly, she tried to chase them away. When she found them spying on her from another empty condo on the other side of the building, she even tried to kill one of them. Just as she closed her fingers on his back upper nape and made to squeeze him like a bottle neck, her hand froze.

The ghost lady appeared and insisted she let them alone. That was the first night she showed her power, and there was no fighting her.

Even more annoying than all the demons hanging about was how much they knew about her. She knew that she'd sent shock waves through communities across the globe, what with her defeating Levi, working with the Council, and killing an infamous Primordial, but these vamps knew everything: from the names of her best friends to her usual coffee drink. A few had even confessed to spying on her long before the attempted apocalypse. They were curious to know if all the things they'd heard about her were true.

All she ever said to anyone, over and over, was that she wanted to be left alone; to have a normal life. What a shock to know that she was never really alone; she only thought she was.

Word of her Primordial initiation and the whispers of the ghost lady falsely convinced them that Starr was some kind of hero. Vampires got some crazy idea that she was the one who was strong enough to help them defeat Credenza. And, frequently, her name was mentioned in the psychic cry outs.

Now, she was sharing a vacant condo with a dozen other vampires, while dozens more were in an empty house several blocks over, not to mention the empty condo on the other side of the property. They'd spend their days fighting and plotting, gathering weapons and ammo.

Several of them tailed the family at all times, whose names were Barb and Mike Mitchell. The baby's name was Meghan, just like her dead sister. Such a coincidence was eerie for her to think about.

Starr didn't know who the ghostly woman was, though she'd asked many times. But it was obvious that she was an ancient one gone into unconsciousness; a Primordial, she surmised, though she could've been a witch, too.

Perhaps it was foolish to trust the woman, but so far, she'd been good help. It was she who led her to the baby that, now, had her soul. And it was because of her that all these vampires were there to help her win the fight. Plus, she would've never stayed in Boston if not for the woman showing her that Shane and the others were in fact alright. They were worried and scared, but were living well and without much supervision at the Council's castle.

The castle was the size of New York City, and it was nestled in a bowl shaped valley of the Carpathian Mountains in Romania. Having spent time there, herself, she knew they'd be fine. Not only was the castle built to house an entire city, but it had all the modern amenities of one, too.

More importantly, Credenza would never hurt them as long as Starr had what she wanted: the baby and, both theirs, soul.

As she walked the rainy streets of Boston, the essence of the ghost woman blanketed her again.

"Who are you?" she asked aloud. "Are you ever going to tell me?"

A strong wind blew around her; the trees wavered violently. The street light's cemented pole groaned under the strength of the wind.

"Is that a sign?" she asked.

But instead of the usual whispers that followed this benevolent behavior, the sky simply darkened several shades, and then a bolt of lightning shot down into someone's back yard, several hundred feet away.

She walked to the corner and pressed the little button on the crossing light. Cars sped past as she waited.

Across the street was the café she frequented, lately. At one point, she was visiting the shop three and four times a day, simply needing to get some quiet time. Just like at the clinic, she had a hard time being around so many people, and it was worse when they were clamoring adults. All day there was shouting, arguing, the chinking of swords and the shocking of arms.

"Oh hell!" she said under her breath.

A dark haired man in a black trench coat dropped down, in front of the café, from the gray cloud above the street. He looked right into her eyes as he waited for her to cross.

This was the fashion in which people, to her grief, came. It was partly her fault because she was terrible at cloaking her thoughts. Mental discipline was always her one weakness. Like a lighthouse, her essence shined out through the fog of all the people, making her easily locatable.

The light changed.

Extremely annoyed by the man's presence, she walked fast and hard, giving him a death stare.

"Go away," she said as she stepped up onto the sidewalk.

"Are you Starr?"

"No," she said louder than she meant. "Now beat it, or I'll kill you."

"You must be her," he said unfazed. "Your ferocity is legendary."

She rolled her eyes as she pulled back the glass door, and walked into the coffee shop.

"But I need to talk to you," she heard as she let the door swing closed.

She walked up to the counter and ordered her usual latte with cinnamon. Turning back, she saw the man watched her through the glass door.

Spotting the Daily Times in a basket next to the counter, she picked it up and made her way to a table at the back.

Lately, the news was abounding in stories of murders and missing persons. If he or she didn't have his or her guts removed and half eaten, he or she seemed to disappear without a trace. There were even a few stories of men and women whom the police, upon investigation of their vacant homes, were found to be as much as 500 years old, yet appeared not to have aged a single day past approximately thirty years.

No one believed these stories. She knew this because she'd heard plenty of talk in the cities and in the psychic cries, but the upswing in violence was a concern to many. She didn't need to be a good telepath to see these worries, either. The fright was painted on their faces and infused with the scents that humans put off: scents of fear.

As she sipped her coffee, she shifted her eyes to the windows. Outside, the man still stood on the sidewalk, staring unblinkingly at her through the glass.

She sighed long and loud. Then she stood and threw the newspaper down onto the table. On her way out, she said to the barrister, "I'll bring back the cup."

Outside, she said, "Follow me."

They walked several blocks over to the condo she and the others had been squatting in. Before opening the door, she turned and said, "Know that if you're working for Credenza, I'll kill you."

Once again, the man hardly flinched. "She's already tried to kill me, so you need not worry, dear lady."

"My name's Starr. Try to be contemporary. I can't stand all your old world customs."

"Miss, there's no need to be bitter."

Ignoring him, she turned and unlocked the door.

Inside, half a dozen men and women were going over plans to rob an army base, the next state over, of rocket launchers; something they were sure would kill vampires the likes of Credenza. They, mostly being less than a few centuries old, would need a "leg up" because the older they got, the more difficult they were to eradicate.

Over the last few weeks, her life had become just like a military camp, too. With vamps actually training, learning how to fight, and even with swords. This is where Starr was actually grateful for the older vamps because she knew that Credenza would fight like a warrior, and the younger ones needed to be prepared for it.

Most of the younger vampires thought Starr was being silly, but she insisted they learn old world styles of combat. Silly as it seemed, barbarianism had a history of taking out armies, in the past. Just because it was old, didn't mean it was ineffective, she told them one night. Firing guns was useless; they needed to learn to carry real weapons.

"Younger ones?" a man named Aster asked sarcastically, on the night she was asked to discuss Romanian tactics. "You're only just turned 18 years total. I like how you talk about us like we're children to you."

It was funny, yes, but they didn't understand that Credenza and Starr were one person divided by a degree.

She walked into the living room where a man was sharpening old swords.

"Where's Aine?" she asked.

Sometimes it was hard to remember all their names.

"They're out practicing. Got a new one, there?" he asked.

"Yeah, can you take care of him?"

"Sure," he said.

Leaving the newcomer, she went to her room and shut the door.

Aine was an old Irish vampire she'd met some time ago. At first, she and her companion, Ciaran, were the only ones Starr trusted in their "army," and they were purportedly strong allies to have, with reputations from centuries ago of being vicious, tenacious, restless warriors.

Rumor had it that they already went up against the Council during the Celtic Revival of the early twentieth century. The Council lost that battle, and a number of men. But they failed to takeout Credenza, so when they heard whisper of Starr's so called "army," Aine, Ciaran, and a couple dozen of her clansmen were more than eager to help.

However, Starr could tell by the glisten in their eyes and the vibrato in their voices that it was more than Credenza that drove them, but it was a thirst for a fight. They were true warriors in the sense that it was a matter of pride. Credenza explained this ideology to her once; it was something that she thought Starr would aspire to, but she was wrong. Nostalgia drove these vampires to battle, but Starr was a modern woman with modern desires.

Aine's people were strong. Starr had already engaged them, and learned a lot about sword fighting; things she couldn't pull from Credenza's memory. For the first time in years, they likened her to pain. Something she hadn't felt since the night she'd been shot. At that moment when she'd taken a platinum bat to her kidney, she understood why the old vampires were excited to be there. The pain from the fight made them feel alive, like they were doing what their demons were meant to do. She, too, loved it; loved that feeling.

Even better than the pain was their technique that was different from the Romanians who had a more conservative form of battling. With Aine and her men, Starr really felt the passion in the fight, and her inner demon relished that, too. They weren't afraid to get in close or to use their hands and legs as well as their weapons, unlike the Romanians or the Romans. Since she was a martial artist, the Celtic style fell more in line with what she already knew about fighting. And she was able to teach them a modern thing or two, too, which they loved.

Starr loved having the respect of the old warriors. It was when she was with them that she realized that, despite her modern desires, she really was a warrior at heart. She felt at home, and she loved dining side by side with them.

So not all of the vampires who showed were terribly annoying to her, it was just the younger ones. Many of them couldn't fight to save their lives, and had not a clue about warring, then, got pissy with her. Credenza was ruthless, and so were her men. Since bullets only slowed them down, they needed to be prepared to go mono a mono, she told them.

The young ones didn't like this, and some even had the nerve to be resentful of Starr's authority. When the same man, Aster, challenged her one evening, and even drew his sword, she almost retreated. Not out of fear, but out of shear frustration that the men wouldn't listen to her. To them, she was just some silly girl.

That was when Ikael, Aine's longtime friend from a neighboring tribe back in the "old country," taught her what it meant to be a chieftain warrior. He was a member of the Scamall family, and thanks to him and his friend, Druce, Starr was thriving as a militia.

"What are you doing, lass?" he asked that evening, sounding sincerely disgusted. "Are you a warrior or not? You're stronger than they. Show them you're the authority," he said, and pushed her back toward Aster. She looked at Aine and Ciaran, both who nodded, agreeing that the young fledgling needed to be taught a lesson.

Aster was a dirty demon. He didn't give her a chance for a fair fight, but he charged her while she still faced Ikael. She whirled around and, with just her bare hands, severed his arms from his back, and threw them through the glass window. It was actually an accident, as she meant to throw him out of the window. Just as before, there were still times when her new strength eluded her knowledge.

Ikael and his buddies didn't seem to mind the sight of liters of blood issuing from Aster's sockets. They shouted their approval and laughed hysterically. Given their reputation, she shouldn't have been surprised by their delight.

"Make no mistake, young fledglings," Ikael said with a wide faced smile. "Starr is in charge, and we're here to support her. You got a problem with that, than get out."

"Before she dismembers you," said someone, and the Scamalls laughed once more.

"It's not funny," said one of the young ones.

They looked extremely upset.

"Actually, Ikael," said a man named Druce. "They should fight until death, don't you think? Attacking while another's back is turned? We would have never allowed such a thing in our day; either that or we should just kill him."

"No, please!" begged Aster. "I'm sorry!"

"No," said Ikael. "Things don't work like that anymore. Besides, that's Starr's decision. Talk to her."

"Starr, allow me to advise you. I've had great battle experience, and I know how to handle a dirty rat," he said passionately. "Why don't you get your arms before someone calls the police, you dirty rat."

Druce pushed him to the floor.

"Death by beheading," said someone from the back.

"No," said Starr. "Just get your things and leave, Aster."

From that day on, no one questioned her. Aster, who begged her to let him stay, had become especially subservient.

Although things were better after her showdown, she still felt ashamed for a while after. That's when Ikael came to her once more, and said, "It's better that you don't have to worry about what these men will do when you're back is turned. It's better that you assert your authority now, rather than on the battle field or on a mission. Don't be ashamed, this is a natural part of leadership. Someone will always challenge you, and you must prove your worthiness. Tonight you did what was expected of you; though the younger ones don't understand this, but we, the Scamall Clan, respect you. If you ever need anything, just ask. Okay?"

After that night, Starr found she liked Ikael and Druce even more. Without any real confirmation they, alongside Aine and Ciaran, had become her lieutenants.

The only thing that worried her was Shane had promised to contact her, telepathically, but there was still no word. The ghost lady assured her they were okay, and even sent her images of them in the Council's castle, playing games and being well taken care of. They simply weren't allowed to leave. Not that it was possible, as the castle was nestled in a bowl shaped valley in the Carpathian Mountains, which bordered Romania and the Ukraine. There was no place for them to go.

The main thing, the ghost lady told her, was not to rush into fighting because a lot was riding on her, including her destiny. Whatever that meant, Starr didn't care about destiny, she just wanted to save her friends and go home.

Starr tried to get more information, but the ghost lady wouldn't answer. This angered her, and if it weren't for the fact that the lady led her to the baby – to her soul, she wouldn't have listened.

Plus, there was something familiar about the lady; almost like she'd met her before. Naturally, Starr realized she could've been tapping into a memory from Credenza's life. She should've written her off, immediately. But something, somewhere inside her, told her to stay put. Both, she and Credenza trusted the ghost lady, though she just couldn't remember why.

Taking down the last of her latte, she sat back on her inflatable bed and turned on her netbook. She should have been training with the men. Most of which took place in the house a few yards over, but she just needed to get away. Ikael and his men understood this about her and respected her needs. For that, she was also grateful to them.

Arms Ready
Chapter 2

The next morning, she took a shower, grabbed a coffee and walked to the house a few blocks over.

She opened the door without knocking. Several of the men nodded to her.

The whole house had been turned into a barracks. In the back, a large tent covered the entire yard. The men used the area to practice fighting, but also to store ammo they could no longer fit in the cluttered house.

Tacked to the living room wall was a schedule. The guys slept in various places throughout the city, but took turns sleeping in the house and standing guard. This was important because Boston, unlike other cities, was already a fully restored place after the near vampire apocalypse. Anyone could try to break in or call the cops on them.

"Starr," called Ciaran.

He stood in the corner, red eyes ablaze, looking down at a partial mapping. Like Starr, he'd taken Primordial blood, and the eyes were the consequence. Credenza's eyes didn't turn so red, however, because she was already half Primordial by birth.

Druce was there, too.

"Where's Ikael?"she asked.

"Hunting,"Ciaran said.

Hunting was their code word for getting blood. Most vamps needed to feed their monster regularly, lest they should vamp out.

"You look like you're about ready for a hunt, too."

He was right; it had been at least week since she'd drank. But ever since the Primordial blood, human and animal blood just wasn't the same. It was like drinking Justin Isosceles, and then being forced to take a Turning Leaf.

"I need you to help us map out the Council's castle," he said, handing her a pen. "Rumor has it, it's somewhere over here," he motioned on the map. "Keagan told me you'd been there before."

"You're talking to Keagan?" she asked hotly. "I don't want him here. If you're with him, you can go."

"Relax, Starr. Keagan isn't here."

"What's your beef with Keagan?" asked Druce.

"He's just a jealous fiend, Druce. Sestin chose Starr to carry his legacy."

Starr knew it was a risk, working with the very people who were apart of Keagan's clan, as he was the Scamall, but as long as Keagan didn't come around, she'd try to be easy. Plus, it was the ghost lady's instruction that Starr should trust them.

"Yes, I know where the castle is, but I'm a terrible artist," she said, taking the pen and leaning over the sheet. "The castle is huge, and nearly impossible to get to."

Starr did her best to draw the mountain range with the castle in the middle.

"As you can see," she said, "it's completely surrounded. How they managed to build the castle, millenniums ago, and survive is a mystery, what with all the moisture and no real drainage."

"Actually, the castle was built in the late first millennium, though it looks older than that. What I want to know is how in the world did you get there?" Ciaran asked sounding frustrated. "Looking at this map," he said as he pulled out a green map from underneath Starr's drawing. "This is really terrible terrain."

"From the Castel de Negru," she pointed to an area on the green map, "I went east into the mountains and then followed the voices. It took a couple days, though if I were human, I would've died. It was the worst journey I've ever taken."

"I can imagine," said Ciaran.

"What is this Castel de Negru?" asked Druce.

"The Order of Black's Romanian castle," he replied.

"Madam Balaji's order?" he asked.

"Yep."

"I've been thinking about how we should do this," said Starr. "I think we should sneak in and rescue the kids, and then sneak out. Just a couple of us should go. What's the point in trying to battle our way in? We might all die, and then what would happen to them?"

"I hate to disagree with you, but we have a problem. We don't have enough men or resources to cover two missions; the two missions being rescuing your friends and going to war with the Council."

When Starr didn't get it, Druce cut in with, "We're certain that no matter what, we're all going to war. And we're certain that some of us won't make it back. Now, if we lose men in a rescue, then we won't have enough men for the real fight. What we're asking is for you to be patient. Give us another week to prepare for battle. That way we can go in and fight, and rescue the kids, at the same time."

"That won't work because I don't want them or my friends around the fight. They could get hurt."

"We could fly them out," said a man from behind them.

She leaned her head back and saw the man she'd met at the café. He was sitting on a couch, fixing a broken machine gun.

The man set the gun down, stood and walked toward them.

"Starr, this is Seth. He's gonna help us with getting the rocket launchers from that base in Maine," said Druce.

"After the army, I was a commercial pilot for twenty-three years," he said.

"When was the last time you flew a plane," asked Starr. "A lot's changed, become electrical."

"I can figure it out, trust me. Besides, it wasn't that long ago."

"Yeah, well, I have the lives of over a dozen people counting on me."

"Give me a chance; that's all I ask," he said, sweeping his long brown hair over his shoulder.

When she was about to protest, Druce said, "Starr, Aine has vouched for Seth, who has done nothing but good since he's been here. We need him, so let's give him at least one chance."

Starr relented. She blinked her eyes and nodded her headed in consent, and took another sip of her coffee.

"Back to the rescue plan," Ciaran said, pulling up a chair. "You know that your friends are safe. They're probably eating junk and playing games. That place is like an amusement park. So just give us one more week."

She nodded her head and said, "I think you're right."

Just as she turned to leave, he said, "Wait! There's something else."

"Yes?" she asked, turning back around.

"Since we need to preserve our men and resources, I think we should send our strongest to the military base, to get the launchers. That way we know the job will get done without losing anyone."

~~~

The next morning, Seth pulled up to the condo building in a Chevy Suburban.

Starr was reluctant to leave the baby and her soul behind, but Aine promised her she'd, personally, watch out for the Mitchells. What amazed Starr was that they still didn't realize they were being watched and tailed.

She climbed into the middle seat, behind Seth as she spied into the Mitchell's condo. One thing that Starr was good at was remote telepathy, which enabled her to see things in other places.

In her mind, she saw the husband getting ready for work. The wife was feeding Meghan breakfast. They were a perfect couple. Mike liked running off to his job as a CGI specialist while his wife took care of his first child. He was a little disappointed that the baby was a girl, but he seemed to love her all the same.

Meghan was much like Starr, though different in subtle ways. She loved the little plastic blocks her mother got her, but hated the smell of her stuffed animals, which her mother insisted on putting in her crib or play pen.

Somehow, Meghan was able to communicate with her in a spiritual way, and even spoke to her in her dreams. Starr told Meghan one night that she, too, hated stuffed animals when she was a baby.

But are you happy? Starr asked her in the dream.

Meghan assured her that in her new life, her parents really did love her. She assured her that this time around, life would be better than the last.

This made her cry. Being close to her soul made her very emotional, but at that moment – knowing her future self was happy - touched her deeply. Even when she woke, it was to find her pillow was soaked in tears.

Don't cry, Meghan said to her from the other building, though she was awake.

Her parents never loved her the way they loved her sister, Meghan. Even after all the terrible things her sister did, they treated Starr like she was an extraterrestrial, and then acted as if she should've been grateful.

How strange it was to find that her soul had evolved into a character named Meghan who was actually cared for. It almost made her wonder if she, Starr, should have been Meghan when she was alive. What if the cosmos made a mistake?

Somehow, knowing that little Meghan was cared for gave her peace; made her forgive her parents. She even entertained the notion, for a brief moment, of returning home.

As she sat there waiting for the guys, Starr mused at how normal the Mitchell's lives were. New York City was still underground, in the sewers, and she and the kids had been out of school and jobs for what seemed like forever, yet here was this small family going about their lives as though nothing happened in the world, except the passing of another day.

The scene made her envious. How she missed the days when going to school and worrying about what movie to watch on Friday nights with the kids was all she had to think about.

Seth remained quiet, but she caught his marble blue eyes in the mirror a few times. He wanted to speak to her, she could tell, but she wasn't in the mood for chit chat.

Finally, fifteen minutes later, Ikael, Druce, Ciaran and another Scamall clansman by the name of Shea exited the building, carrying large bags. They opened the back of the suv and stacked the bags in.

"Hi, Starr," said Shea, scooting in next to her.

"Hi," she said lightly.

As she said this, Seth caught her eyes in the mirror again, and then turned his head, shaking it mildly.

Starr couldn't help it. She trusted them. Seth, she didn't know from Adam, and even though Aine vouched for him, he was nothing like the other vamps, which made him even more suspicious to her.

As they pulled away from the condo, Starr felt coldness return to her core. Being so close to her soul, though it lay in the body of another, was like being near a fire on a chilly day. The further away from it she got, the deeper the chill returned. More than anything she wanted to stay near that flame, but business called.

She looked out of the window and wondered what the ghost lady was up to. It had been a few days since she'd heard from her. For a while there, it was almost like they were living together. She was always there, whispering in her ear. The woman made her feel safe. She hated to admit it, but she felt lost without her constant reassurances.

They'd been on the road a while before Seth mustered enough courage to talk to her.

"I'd heard of you, before, too," Seth said.

"Yes, I know."

She sighed.

"Why does that bother you?" he asked. "People look up to you; they respect you."

"Ha," she said. "They don't respect me as much as you think."

"How is it that people follow you, when you're so negative?" he asked.

Starr was incensed, but Druce said,"That is why we love her. Humble Starr: A leader with no real bias, she is. Get the job done, and everyone is equal to her."

"Equally distasteful?" Seth suggested.

"Sounds strange, but yes," Druce answered.

Starr felt her face get hot. It was embarrassing that they talked about her whilst she sat there. She wanted to speak, but didn't know what to say.

"I should have asked this earlier, but how many men do you think will be there?" asked Ciaran.

"At least a dozen is my guess. If we're swift, we might miss most of them. "

At 11 p.m. they parked the SUV near a large boulder that blocked the view of the army base from the road.

Before stepping out of the car, they put on masks and gloves to hide their faces and fingerprints.

"Now," whispered Seth, turning in his seat. "They've likely got this whole area under surveillance, and can probably even hear what we say. Once we get within a 100 yards, we should whisper when we speak."

He pulled the mask over his face and then stepped out of the vehicle; Starr and the others followed. As fast they could, they ran across the dirt field.

The fence was twenty yards away from the road, and the army base was another twenty inland.

When Seth got close enough to the fence, he leapt clear over the barbed wire. Starr and the others did the same.

The alarm went off, immediately, as they touched the ground.

They ran for nearly a minute before two men burst out of the door of the white building.

"Stop right there!" they shouted, holding machine guns.

When they didn't stop, they shot nonstop. Starr was surprised to see the other men's reflexes were as good as hers. They leapt, jumped, flipped, and Seth even rolled, out of the path of zooming bullets.

The men, realizing they weren't going down, ran back inside the building.

Although the soldiers locked and barred the door, it was no match for Starr and the others. Seth sent a strong front kick, blasting the door off its hinges.

Another alarm, in the building, went off. Lights flashed, making Starr squint.

The building was brightly lit with fluorescent lights. The walls were cemented stone shapes.

Another man with a rifle on his shoulder ran at them from across the room. Before he could pull the trigger, Seth ran up to him and punched him out, splattering the wall with his blood.

Further down the hall, a few men turned and shouted as they, too, pointed their weapons.

The hall being too small to dodge bullets, Seth, who was still in the lead, took the first draft of metal bits, dropping him to the ground in pain.

Starr raised her hands towards the men, who flew back into the wall and crumpled to the floor.

Since drinking the Primordial blood, her telekinetic energy had gotten better. She flicked her hand, and the rifles skidded away, across the hall.

The men stood and ran.

Starr picked Seth up by the arms and supported him with her shoulders.

"This way," he said, pointing right.

They went to the end of the hall, and then down a set of stairs.

At the bottom, there was another hall. Across it was a thick iron door. It took several hits from Ciaran, before it caved in.

Starr helped Seth through the door, and set him in a chair.

Inside was the largest storage of weapons she'd ever seen, including 100s of rocket and grenade launchers, which she immediately went for.

"I always wanted one of these," she said, picking up a rocket launcher like it was an anxious puppy.

"Yeah," Seth said from his seat. He grinned and groaned, as he pushed himself up and walked toward her. "Well I always wanted one of these."

He pulled a .50 caliber MK 19 from the cabinet. The smile on his face reminded Starr of Lily, several years ago, on Christmas morning.

Starr smiled, as she reached out to hold it.

"Okay, lovebirds, someone's coming," whispered Shea. "I'm gonna head them off. You guys need to start loading these bags."

He left the room.

From up the stairs, she heard "Don't move!" Then there was the sound of more shooting and footsteps. But she and the others paid no mind: rather they continued to load all the weapons and ammunition into their bags.

When the sounds got particularly harry, and Shea cried out in pain, Druce said, "I'll go help Shea."

Twenty minutes later, they'd loaded an insurmountable amount of weapons into their bags. If they were human, they'd have never been able to carry such weight.

Seth, who was fully recovered, took the lead again.

They ran back up the stairs, down the halls and out of the building. Shea and Druce met them as they exited into the cool night air, when a man from the roof shot at them.

"Run as fast as you can," Seth screamed. "Carry the ammo in front of your bodies! We don't want to get blown up!"

Luckily, the bullets didn't hit their ammunition.

They leapt over the fence and ran to the SUV. They threw the ammo in the back of the auto, and the larger weapons into the rack on the roof.

Seth skid the SUV off down the gravel, kicking up dirt.

Just when they thought they were safe, an army truck with a few men appeared behind them.

More bullets hit the back of the SUV.

Having lost her patience, Starr turned around and focused on the trucks front tires.

A few minutes later, they were aflame. The tires exploded, and then the soldiers steered off the road.

Twenty miles outside of Boston, they ditched the SUV and found a U haul truck, which they crowded into and drove the rest of the way back.

As they got closer to the condos, she felt the warmth of her soul again.

They pulled up to the house at about 4am. Starr sighed, relieved that Aine had kept her promise: The Mitchells were safe.

They hurried to get all the weapons in the house before the dawn came, making them visible to any neighbors.

After they'd finished, the men retired for a couple of hours while Starr went to the café.

As she sat there, reading a book she'd downloaded into her phone, Seth came and sat.

She sighed, and set down her phone.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I just wanted to talk."

"No, it's okay," she said. "Stay, sit. I should be used to this by now."

"Sounds like you get approached often."

"Not to sound bitchy, but yeah. People have all kinds of ridiculous questions for me. They talk to me like we're buddies or family."

"So what is your story?" he asked, trying to sound genuine.

"Cut the hussle. You know my story, just like everyone else here. I know you've been asking about me, and that you're fascinated by this soul business. Now, tell me, what do you really want?"

He looked at her a moment; his jaw clenched and then relaxed.

"As you put it, I want to know about this soul business. How does it work?"

"Why?"

"Because it fascinates me."

But Starr knew he was lying.

"Well, Seth, you really aren't the man I thought you were. After all, what kind of person would condemn a person to live life on Earth without a soul?"

His eyes flashed.

"Starr, it's not like that; you're jumping to conclusions. That's not fair."

"What's it like, then?"

He looked away.

"Look, I just want to know what happens when you put the soul back into a body."

"Seth, let it go. You see that, in my case, the baby is another life form all together. It's likely that it's the same with your soul, too."

Seth remained with a steely look in his eyes. A scent of something foul filled the air. It was his pheromones, indicating that he had no intention of listening to her, or that he felt resentment towards her.

She stood up, sipping her coffee, and said, "You can think what you want. I don't care how you feel toward me, but if you hurt innocent people, you'll have me to deal with."

She stepped outside the coffee shop and said to the air through clenched teeth "This was exactly what I was afraid of, lady! GRRRrrr," she growled.

She didn't know if the ghost lady heard her, but she sure hoped she did. Starr hoped she knew what a big mistake she'd made, sending vampires like Seth to her. No doubt, when vampires started to attack humans en masse to get their souls, they'd look to her to fix that problem, too.

The next day, one of the Scamalls, whose name she'd forgotten, brought another stolen SUV to the house. Seth appeared but said nothing, as they got in and drove to the Boston airport where Seth tested out his pilot skills on some of the newer jets.

The airport was the only thing in the city that wasn't up and running; that and some of the government buildings, and most of the colleges.

One particular air bus seemed to catch his eye. They watched him fly around Boston for a number of hours.

After a few dozen turns about the sky, he came back down.

"Well what do you think?" asked Aine.

"I can do it," he said.

"I don't know if this is a good idea," said Starr, thinking that he might double cross them just to get back at her for the things she said.

"Starr, just give me a chance," he said angrily.
Night Before the Battle
Chapter 3

The very next evening, Ikael urged Starr to join them in a final dinner. Though she would have rather stayed in her room, she brushed her long sleek black hair, and grabbed her sickles and cloak.

Maybe it was silly to bring her weapons to a party, but, lately, she'd been feeling paranoid about some of the clansmen.

She skipped the contact lenses. Wearing them at night, at that time of year, was terrible. When it was especially cold, they stuck to her eyes. Often, she'd have to peel the lenses from her eyes, like peeling a layer of nail polish off her finger. When someone died, the person stopped producing natural lubricant; not even saline drops helped.

When she walked in the door, everyone stared. They weren't used to seeing her without the sterling gray or blue lenses she usually wore.

"Careful, people might begin to think we're related," said Ciaran with a light laugh.

People stood about the room, looking cleaner and happier than they usually did. They all held glasses of beer or wine, and appeared to be genuinely trying to enjoy themselves.

Starr was terrible at schmoozing, so she continued past the men into the back yard where she hoped to find a distraction.

Some men and women she'd never seen before were dressing a table with dishes.

Seth stood across the yard, talking to a younger vampire.

He waved to her, excused himself and walked up to her.

"Listen, I just want to apologize for the other day in the coffee shop. I don't want you to think poorly of me."

"It's alright. I tend to overreact."

"Yeah, well, this soul business is quite fascinating to all of us, vampires. Since I've died, I've felt a certain emptiness inside me. My mind tells me that I should think and feel things, but I don't. Every day, it's a struggle to do the right things; things that the living would do."

He took a sip of his martini.

She sighed, feeling slightly sorrow stricken by his words, for she knew too well what he spoke of.

Spotting a pigeon in the nearby tree, she held her hand out and called it. It flew down into her palm where she, immediately, broke its neck and stuck her fangs in its gut.

"Sorry, but I haven't fed in a while."

She tossed the pigeon across the yard into the large trash can by the fence.

"Can I get you a cocktail?" he asked.

"I'm not much of a drinker."

"Don't be silly," he said, waiving to a lady server in a white blouse.

"I'd never encourage my daughters to drink, but..."

"But I'm not your daughter."

The server came over and handed her a glass of white wine.

After a few more pigeons, Seth walked with her back inside the house.

Druce called them to silence.

"Our final hour approaches, and then we'll tread in the darkness. Some of us may not make it back to the light of life. And some of us have been here before, haven't we?"

A few men murmured and shouted in agreement. Some of them laughed, clapped and hooted. They weren't ashamed of the fact that they liked fighting to death.

Ciaran continued with, "As we, older ones, have learned, sometimes life brings adversity, and while there's nothing wrong with being different, sometimes adversity leads to evil. We must be brave and stand up to these things. You all should be proud that you stand for something. Remember to never fear death. If anything, we know that we'll live again. So let's celebrate life, liberty, and our choice."

He raised his glass and said, "Slainte!"

"Slainte!" the men shouted back.

Everyone downed their drinks.

"Now, let's enjoy this fine meal that our good friend, and head clansman, Keagan, has had prepared for us."

Starr felt her head get warm. She looked to where everyone's head turned, and there, standing in the yard was Keagan with his long white streaked hair and lined face.

He died older than most other vamps.

Keagan raised his glass to her, but Starr stood stiff.

"Come sit with me," Seth said, grabbing her gently by the elbow and leading her.

Starr's eyes never left Keagan.

They sat at the end of the table.

She watched him nod at many of the clansman as he made his way to the other end of the table. Ciaran and Aine sat beside him.

Noticing her displeasure at the sight of Keagan, he asked, "So why did he try to kill you, again?"

"A man he'd taken care of for years, a Primordial, chose me to carry on his legacy. Keagan was livid. I guess I would be, too, after centuries of devotion -taking care of an inanimate body, but then he tried to kill me while I was sick and unable to defend myself."

Servers began to go around the table and refresh drinks and place bowls of soup in front of people.

"If there's bad blood between you, why are he and his clansman here?"

"I don't know," she sighed, holding her glass out for a server to pour sparkling blood wine into. "Believe me, I never wanted any of them here, but they insisted."

"Hi Starr," said Shea, who came and sat beside her.

"Don't worry, I never liked that demon, either. So I thought I'd join you."

"You're a Scamall. Aren't you worried that he'll hear?" asked Seth.

"Oh, he knows I don't like him, and no, I'm not even a Scamall, though people assume I am. I'm just compatriots with a few of these old demons. We fought together against the English at one point."

The servers came around and served them another course. A group of musicians entered the yard, and set up on the grass where they played classical music.

Seth asked her questions about her youth: Where she went to school? How long had she been a vampire? How did she meet her friends? What kind of music did she like? Did she have any hobbies?

By the time the third course came about, Starr was agitated. She wanted to keep her real life private.

Seeing that his questions put her on edge, he stopped.

"What are you gonna do when this is all over?" asked Shea, picking up where Seth left off.

"Go home, of course."

"You and the kids should come here. You'll be protected, and so will they."

"I can protect them just fine."

"Don't you think you should go back to school, though?" he asked.

"What's it with all the questions? Vampires don't usually care about this stuff. What about you? Why don't you tell me something about yourself?" she asked aggressively.

Seth put his fork down, loudly, chinking the china.

"I'm full!" he boasted. "Wanna dance?"

Before she could say no, he scooted out his chair, and was pulling her by the hand, from her seat.

As she stepped onto the dancing platform that'd been laid down by the band, she looked back and saw Keagan eyeing her from across the room.

"You're worried about him, aren't you?"

When she didn't reply, he said, "I'm not perfect, Starr, but you can trust me. What's really bothering you?"

She considered him a moment. Although it was against her better judgment, her need to talk about her concerns won out.

"I wonder if he'll go for the baby when I've gone. I know he's got it in for me; it's just a matter of when he'll surprise me. He hates me and Credenza with a fierce passion.

Also, we've been here for nearly a month. Why haven't we been attacked, yet? Surely, vamps everywhere know where we are, and why we're here."

"When we're gone, the baby will remain cloaked by the essence of the ghost lady. No one outside our circle will know where she is."

"Except us and Keagan."

Starr sighed and watched Ciaran dance with one of the servers.

"If you're really concerned about traitors among us, then after we leave, send the Mitchell's away."

"How do I do that?"

"Well, if you talked to the Mitchell's, I doubt they'd listen. You'll have to do something that will force them to leave, and keep them away for a long while."

"Hmm," she replied. Ideas were already turning in her mind.

After the song, Seth followed her to the bar where they got more drinks. Several men that stood their talking, smiled and nodded, stiffly, to her and walked off.

"See?" she asked. "That's why I don't trust everyone. They go out of their way to avoid me. The way some of them look at me; it's like they're on guard, and they have no reason to be, which can only mean one thing: They're hiding something from me."

"So what are you gonna do?"

"I'm gonna play along for now. I need backup to fight the Council."

"Well, just remember, you've got me. I swear to you, I'm not working against you."

She looked at him and smiled.

Placing her hand on his shoulder and squeezing it, lightly, she said, "Thanks, Seth."

At that moment, Ikael stood before them, and said, "Keagan would like you to join him for a drink."

"I'll pass."

"I think he wants to make amends," he replied.

When she refused, Keagan came to her a few minutes later.

"I know you're angry with me, but I just want to say that I'm behind you on this."

"I think she knows," said Seth smartly.

But Starr didn't believe him. The way his eyes flinched as he offered his support.

She looked at Seth, who looked back at her and winked.

Don't worry, he said into her mind. I saw his face, too. You're right, he's insincere.

They, both, watched him walk back to his companions.

The party ended at 11 p.m. Ciaran urged them to get a good night's rest.

Except Starr, the vampires cleared the house.

She walked Seth to the door.

"I'll walk you home," he said.

"No, I have something I need to do."

The look of wisdom flashed in his eyes, and a smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"Be careful, okay? If you need anything, call me."

He turned and left.

Starr went to the last room at the very back. Someone had placed a pad lock on the door. Focusing her mind, she commanded the lock to release its latch.

The door swung back, revealing the stockpiled launchers and MK 19s. Slightly, she salivated at the sight of the weapons.

A grin forced back her cheeks as she picked up one of the long cylindrical rocket launchers along with two of the mini rockets.

She closed the door and went to the backyard. Turning around and around, she tried to identify a good place to take aim while not making the house a place of suspicion.

Looking up, she noticed a thick blanket of cloud, less than a mile above her head that covered nearly the entire neighborhood. Laughing to herself, she levitated upwards into the cloud.

Once amidst the moist puff, she moved through it to the north side of the street. She couldn't see the condo building from inside the cloud, but she knew it was just right there beyond the white.

On that side of the building, there was one more vacant condo.

Starr stopped where she felt was a good place to target. She, then, took a moment to read the instructions, carefully. Next, she loaded the rocket, pressed the button, and took aim at the vacant condo.

There was a loud hissing noise, as the launcher became hot, heavier, and forcefully erect.

Next moment, the rocket catapulted brightly through the cloud, leaving behind a trail of sparkles that quickly extinguished in the moist cloud.

The sound of the rocket going through the wall was almost as loud as a wrecking ball hitting a building.

Laughing, she loaded the launcher again and pressed the button. Just as she pressed it in, the first set of explosions happened.

Even through the dense cloud, she saw the bright flash and felt a change in temperature.

Her stomach painfully convulsed, as the second rocket hit, setting off more explosions. She hadn't laughed so hard since her time in the cabin, before it burned down.

Judging by the way the bright orange didn't extinguish but got brighter and wider, she assumed the building was on fire.

Eager to see the damage, clearly, she flew back to the house where she stowed the launcher back in the closet. Then she walked down the street.

Outside, nearly everyone in the neighborhood had come out of their houses, and was staring at the condo building, wondering if they should evacuate their own homes.

As she stood there, musing, Ikael came at her lividly.

Are you crazy? What if they figure out it came from here? He shouted, telepathically, at her.

"They won't," she mumbled back.

Starr watched, in her mind, the Mitchells as they grabbed their wallets and managed to get a bag full of things for Meghan. They ran downstairs and across the street, and watched the building burn.

A fire truck turned onto the block, and told everyone to leave or go back in their houses.

Barb and Mike put their things in the van, which was parked just down the street. Starr watched them make a phone call, and then drive off a few minutes later.

When she walked back into the house, shutting the door, everyone looked up at her. Some were angry, but Seth had a look of approval in his eyes.

"She did what she had to do. You would have done the same. Now, let it go," he said to the group.

~~~

The next morning–several hours later, they loaded the U Haul with all the weapons, squeezed themselves into the truck and drove to the airport.

When they got there, it was to find that the army had stationed a troop there. From a few hundred yards away, they observed two armed men with machine guns on their shoulders.

"Damn! They're standing right by the airbus that we want to take. What are they doing here?" asked Aine.

"Probably saw us last time we were here," offered Seth. "They don't want people robbing the airport."

"Here's what we're going to do," said Starr. "There's an old 747 over in the old terminal." She pointed westward. "We'll do a classic diversion tactic by blowing it up, then go in and steal the airbus."

"They might not fall for that, Starr," said Ciaran.

"Yeah, and I need to fuel the plane and do a routine check to make sure it's still safe to fly," said Seth. "These things will take time. I'm gonna need at least fifteen minutes."

"Can you sense where most of the army men are?"Ikael asked Starr.

She took a moment and looked into the surrounding buildings.

"There are a dozen or so in the main terminal, but I can't see if there are others elsewhere."

"Can you see the airbus from the terminal?"

"Yes, but not from where they're sitting. But again, there could be others closer by that I'm not seeing."

"Look, there's no easy way to do this," said Druce. "Either way, we're gonna be out in the open and exposing the plane to the danger of being shot. So I say let's just go up and knock them out. When the shooting starts, we'll do our best to take cover."

"Okay, but if they shoot too close to the plane, I'm gonna move it across the terminal. I may even fly it out of here, without you all, and then we'll have to meet up elsewhere. The last thing we need is to fly a damaged plane across the Atlantic."

When they were agreed, they drove the truck closer to the runway, and parked it behind the closest terminal. Trying not to make too much noise, they each grabbed a large supply of weapons and ammunition, stepped out and ran as fast as they could, towards the men.

A few seconds passed before the army men realized they were under siege. They both shouted into the radios on their shoulders, and pulled their weapons from their backs.

Without verbal warning, they shot mercilessly at them.

"Protect your ammunition," Druce shouted.

Ikael was the first to reach the men. He pulled the weapons from their hands and knocked them, both, out.

Seth ran off in a different direction.

"Where's he going?" asked one of the clansmen.

When Starr and the others reached Ikael and the two guards, they, immediately, dragged the men out of sight.

A minute passed where they stood there, wondering where Seth had gone. The answer to their question came when a stack of motor stairs bounded towards them.

He fitted the stairs to the side of the plane. Shea, followed by the others, ran up and opened the door.

Suddenly, a rain of bullets came down on them. They were so large that they blew chunks of tar six feet off the ground.

"Hurry, get on!" shouted Seth.

They filed in and scrambled to various seats. Without closing the door, Seth ran to the cockpit and started the plane.

Starr closed her eyes and concentrated on finding the location of the big gun.

She hadn't fastened her seatbelt, so she was briefly distracted when the plane jolted into motion. Seth stepped on it, and Starr zoomed out of her seat as the plane hit 40 knots in less ten seconds.

Lying on the floor, she closed her eyes and searched. A few seconds later, she saw him, clearly. He was there, atop the communications tower. She focused her mind on the machine, the way she focused on the zombies back in D.C. A mere moment later, the entire top of the tower blew outward. Enormous chunks of glass and concrete fell to the ground.

Repeatedly, Starr tried to pick herself up from the floor, but the plane was zig zagging too quickly.

When she'd managed to pull herself nearly up into her seat, the plane came to a hard stop, flinging her into the plastic display on the back of the seat in front of her.

Seth bolted out of the cockpit, down the stairs where he began running around the plane doing what Starr knew not. Then the scent of fuel filled her nostrils.

Her hope that they were nearly in the clear was dashed when she heard, in the distance, a group of men running toward them.

Aine had already run outside to protect Seth – so he could keep fueling; Ciaran followed. "Starr," he called, waiving to her.

She leapt out of her seat and followed them outside. Together, they combined their kinesis, forcing back as many of the bullets as they could.

Finally, Seth had what he needed.

"Let's go!" he shouted, as he leapt up three and four steps at a time.

Aine and Starr followed him up the stairs. Ciaran pushed the stairs away from the plane, closed the door and turned the hatch latch.

Starr barely secured her seat belt when Seth decided to skip using the runaway. Instead, he zoomed the plane straight across the tarmac up to over a hundred miles per hour, and then lifted.

Down below, the army continued to fire, but it was useless.

~~~

They were in the air for a few hours.

Starr followed their progress across the Atlantic on the little screen on the seat in front of her.

"Starr?" asked a man named Billy. "Want something to drink?"

"How about some of those little bottles?"

He reached down and gave her a handful and a couple cups with ice.

"We're gonna throw in a movie. Here," he said, handing her a head set.

A little later in the flight, Seth came and sat down next to her.

She pulled the headphones off and asked, "Are we on autopilot?"

"Yeah, just needed a little break. Flying can be tiring. Seeing the same stretch of sky can be trance inducing."

"Hmm," she offered. "Drink?"

"Yes, thanks."

He took the little brown bottle and a cup of ice.

"Seth."

"Yes?"

He set the bottle down and took a drink from the plastic cup.

"No matter what happens, your priority is to get my friends out of Romania and out of East Europe. And especially stay away from Ukraine. The Council's enemies are thick and abundant there."

"Don't worry, Starr. I'll take care of them, no matter what happens. You can count on me."

Several hours later, Seth returned to the cockpit.

Starr fell asleep.

She woke when the planed jolted in a bout of turbulence.

"Starr," called Druce. "We're descending."

The Sibiu Airport was just as she remembered it, except it was empty.

Fortunately, there was no army; there was no one to stop them from taking the largest helicopter.

They stowed their items and flew east into the mountains. Like before, blankets of mist enveloped the atmosphere. Eventually, the landscape began to look familiar. She even saw the Castel de Negru.

Starr was relieved when they lowered down into a fairly dry patch of land ten miles past the castle. After the long trip, she was lethargic and needed to stretch. Unfortunately, Starr wasn't going to get a moment before having to fight.

"They know we're here," said Aine.

Just as she said this, firing came at them from the trees.

They were mere feet off the ground when the engine was hit, and it ignited.

"Let's get out of here," Aine screamed.

Without waiting for Seth to finish landing, Ciaran opened the door and they leapt out, one by one.

Clumsily, Seth bumped the helicopter into the moist ground. He, then, jumped out, too.

In a tree fifty yards north, the largest machine gun Starr had ever seen was pointed at them. A bullet spayed right past her, into the ground, covering her in mud.

Starr wiped the mud from her eyes just in time to see Seth with an MK 19 in his hand. He was jetting across the lawn while shooting at the man in the tree.

One of the men shoved a rocket launcher in her hand, and shouted, "Come on!" She ran with them across the patch of grass just as the helicopter exploded behind them.

Altogether, they headed south to the castle. Firing from the trees continued. Several of them, including Starr, got hit in several places, but their inner animals came out, leaving them unfazed by the pain.

Suddenly, Seth was by her side, with eyes ablaze and fangs drawn. "I'm sorry we lost the chopper," he said, pointing his weapon at a vampire who levitated in the sky, and blowing him into a blood rain.

Strangely, the closer they got to the castle, the thinner the spray of bullets they were pelted with.

When they got to the twelve foot stone wall that encircled the castle, they saw the side of the castle had completely collapsed.

They leapt over the wall and ran into the exposed hall.

Everything was real quiet; too quiet. Down the hall, they ran straight through, past an empty ball room, dance room, and a tea parlor.

Just like last time, it was cold and decorated with antiques. Only, the hall was nearly destroyed, old armor lay everywhere about, and tapestries were shredded to pieces that dusted the floor.

"What happened?" asked Starr in a low voice. "Why have they stopped trying to attack us?"

No one answered.

"I don't think anyone's been here for a while, Starr," said Ikael.

"What do we do?" asked a clansman.

"Ciaran, Aine, and you guys," he said as he motioned to six of the men. "You guys inspect the right wing. The rest of us will go left."

The left wing was mostly offices. Briefly, she remembered how she sat and talked to Blakely, who knew more than he was letting on; then he pretended he wanted to send her home. Instead, he sent her on a dangerous mission to the Ukraine where she almost died in a plane crash.

When they made it past the offices, they continued on to the movie theater, the bowling alley, and the salons.

The whole left wing was empty. Having made it back to the entrance hall first, they ascended the ten flights of stairs. Mentally, Starr continued looking into each of the rooms, looking for any signs of vampires or her friends.

Several hours later, they were in the grand dining hall.

"They were never here at all," said Starr. "I would've sensed them if they were."

"Where else could they have gone?" asked one of the other men.

"I don't know. If anyone should know, however, it should be me," she said angrily.

"If no one's been here in a while, then whoever attacked us must have been tipped off by someone." said Seth.

"Wait!" shouted Starr. "You think we have a traitor?"

"Given what we talked about last night, yes it's possible."

"This is not important," said Ikael. "In war, there are always traitors; enemies amongst ones allies. The main thing is what you do when you get burned. My point is, let's stay focused on our task. Getting to Credenza and finding the kids is the most important thing."

"Ikael's right," said Aine. "Do you remember anything else from the visions the ghost lady sent you?"

"I just saw a large castle. I guess I just assumed it was this one."

"Try to think," she pressed. "Was there any particular landmarks or traits about the castle that would make it stand out from others?"

"Huh," she stopped. A memory came back to her from when she was buried under the snow. "Actually, I do recall another castle that she frequents; it's Romanian. I see the landscape but it's hard to describe."

"Okay, so the castle is here, for sure, in this country?" Seth asked.

"It's near water; a river, but not too close. I remember a small mountain, facing some kind of forest, and the layout of the castle is different than others; spread out like a palace. The place is old; very old. It has a collapsed tunnel underneath it. The tunnel was a primitive form of plumbing."

"I know the place you speak of," Seth said. "It's the Dacian Palace. Credenza resided there until the uprising in 594 A.D. Her and her brother ruled together for a very short time before the people arrested and executed her, or so they thought they'd done her."

"How far is it?" asked one of the clansmen.

"It's a twelve hour drive. On foot, it could take a couple of days to get there."

~~~

That night they found themselves camping in the moist mountains. The terrain was just as terrible as the last time she was there. Seeing the stiff faces and clenched jaws of the others showed her they weren't pleased either.

Just as before, she found herself getting stuck in the mud, but fortunately, she was dressed better this time.

Everywhere was moist and wet, so they made themselves makeshift hammocks and lay in trees dispersed throughout the forest.

Getting a fire started was a pain, too. But when one has pyrokinesis, it's easy to get as much heat as the brain can muster.

She sighed when her small pile of moist moss combusted. Too bad it wasn't hot enough to dry all the moisture from her skin, which was annoyingly moist and clammy, like a reptile's. Without the body's natural oils, vampire skin tended to become painfully frictional in the dry cold.

"Hey, Starr," said Seth. "Thought I'd come over and borrow your fire."

In his left hand, he held two dead foxes; one he handed to her, as he sat at the foot of her hammock. His other hand held half a dozen sticks.

"How you holding up?" he asked, ripping out the throat of his fox.

"I'm alright, but the uncertainty I feel is unsettling," she said, sitting up and pulling out her pocket knife. She made an incision and yanked back the fur of her fox. "I keep waiting for Credenza and her men to come at us, and when they don't, I feel worse. Does that sound crazy?"

"Not at all," he said, shaking his head. He held out his hand to her, wanting to borrow her knife. As he slit the foxes belly and pulled out the entrails, he said, "War is uncertain business; that's just the way it is. You never know when you're enemy is gonna surprise you, and there's always someone who's gonna betray you; someone you trust."

She drained her fox of blood, and then pulled one of her ruby studded sickles from her belt loop. Gently, she slit the foxes gut and tossed the entrails into the fire, except the heart which she juiced with her fangs.

"I'd rather just fight and get it over with," she said, licking her lips, catching a bit of blood that ran down her chin.

Seth made two spits with the sticks he'd brought, and rested them above the flames. Carefully, so as not to unsettle the spits, he placed their fox meat on them to cook. Then he lay back in the hammock and said, "Don't worry, the time to fight is nearing."

They sat in silence a moment before he asked, "Mind if I crash over here tonight? I can't get a fire started to save my life. It's too moist."

The next morning, they headed out of the clearing. Hours went by, of nothing eventful happening. She laughed when one of the men got stuck in the same mud pool as she did months back.

For two days, they stayed the course. During that time, the men got real down, and even Seth who was fairly even tempered had become foul.

But he'd become like Starr's best friend. They usually walked and talked together, and even slept together. Some hinted that they were getting a little too close, but it wasn't like that at all. Seth was more like a fatherly figure, she felt. And in no way, did he look at her with attraction.

On the third day, the fog began to clear, and the air to feel drier.

"Wait, stop," said Seth, looking around.

"I hear it, too," said Aine.

"It's coming from the Castel de Negru," said Starr, recognition dawning on her. "I know that voice; it's coming from right over that hill."

She pointed to a large slick green mount a few yards ahead.

They picked up their pace. Once they made it over the ridge, the castle came into view.

In the distance, a man in white clothes with a red bow tie was waiving at them.

"Starr," he called.

"Do you know him?" asked Seth.

"Yes, that's Adam."

Starr met him on her last trip to Romania. He was Madam Balaji's lover.

When they reached him, he said, "I sensed you, all, in the distance. I had a feeling you'd be coming. Listen, I have information for you."
Order of Black
Chapter 4

Though they didn't say it, they were relieved to have an excuse to get out of the elements. Even though they were resilient, the Romanian terrain wasn't fun at all.

Inside, the castle was much the same as last time she was there; cold dark, and small.

They dropped their arms in the entrance hall and made their way upstairs to rooms where they rinsed and cleaned up the best they could.

An hour later, they sat down to a large lunch on the patio with Adam and the scraggily Blond, Mitch, who was also there, last time.

"Starr, there you are," said the sound of an English voice.

She turned her head to the glass door. Through it came a fair, but slightly older, man.

"Parker!" she exclaimed. "How are you?"

"I'm great, dear."

She stood and gave him a hug.

As usual, the Black's dining was grand, with plenty of blood, brains, and other organs. Starr helped herself to a slice of raw garnished liver.

"So Starr," said Parker. "How have you been?"

"Well," she said and swallowed. "Been practicing; though not fencing exactly."

"I hear talk, of you, in the psychic cries. That's how I knew you'd be here, today."

A server went around and placed bowls of goat brain salads in front of them.

"We really shouldn't be dawdling, here," said Aine.

"I know," Adam replied. "We'll get down to business after lunch. It's rude to discuss such matters while eating."

After lunch they moved into the lounge for drinks.

"So, Adam, we've schmoozed long enough. Do you have something to tell us?" asked Ikael.

"Yes, but I think we should talk in private."

He refilled his glass with wine, and then beckoned them to follow him back down the hall.

Adam led them to a large curtained glass room. From his pocket, he pulled a key, unlocked the door and held it open, waiving his arm in a circular motion that meant they should go inside.

"People could still hear us, couldn't they?" asked Druce.

"Not through these bullet proof glass walls and door. I had them made specially." He paused and sipped from his glass. Then he continued, "I've been in contact with Shane. She wants me to tell you that she and the kids are fine."

"When did you talk to her?" asked Starr anxiously.

"I caught her psychic cry, a few weeks ago."

"Did she say anything about her location?"

"No, she wouldn't tell me. Apparently, she had only a short time to give me a more important message."

He paused to take another sip of his wine.

"'Stay away; We're fine. Don't come looking for us' and that was it. I'm sorry. I knew you would expect more, but that was all."

"Why wouldn't she want us to come for her?" she asked. "It doesn't make any sense. Are you sure it was Shane?"

"I can't be sure of that, as I've never met her before. Somehow, she sensed me – that I'd associated with you, and sought me out. The only reason, I can think of, that she'd tell you not to look for her is because Credenza has something planned for you. Whatever it is, it must be bad."

"So what do you we do, then?" she asked, turning to Seth for advice.

"We stay the course, naturally," he said.

"Feel free to stay the night, here, if you like," said Adam. "I know it was a hard journey from the Council, as I've made it myself a number of times."
One Last Sup
Chapter 5

After they'd had a couple drinks, Adam lead them up to the first and second floors, and pointed them into rooms. Starr climbed into her bed and slept a couple hours before there was a knock at her door, letting her know that dinner was being served in the dining room.

As before, the servants went around and poured drinks in their glasses and served them several courses.

Adam and several of the Irish men were hitting it off, as they talked incessantly and laughed riotously every so often.

After they'd done, Parker asked her to join him in the castle gym.

As before, he was anxious for an assault. He put a rapier in her hand.

"Do you remember what to do?"

"I think so."

This time, when she took her plié- like stance, it was with a touch of the memories she had of Credenza, who was a skilled combatant to aide; even if Credenza wasn't a fencer, she was a deadly swordsman who'd fought many great battles.

Parker, like last time, attempted a balestra: a quick lunge forward. Starr spun around to the right and behind him, and struck him in the back.

"Wow, where did you learn that?"

"It's hard to explain."

"You're always good at the defense, so try some offensive moves."

He stood en garde and waited.

She poked her sword forward, repeatedly, sort of like a jabbing motion; Parker met poke with a chink sound of his sword, easily sliding her blade to the left and right. Starr advanced lunged, shortly, but then continued into a compound riposte.

Parker looked unfazed, as he met each of her attacks with grace. After a few minutes of this, he seemed to think he'd teach her a lesson by jutting left, suddenly.

He flicked his sword at her left shoulder. At the same moment, she turned fifteen degrees to face him, and moved forward bringing her sword inward, putting pressure gradually toward the base, forcing the rapier to extend its handle from his grasp, and fall to the floor.

He smiled, picked up his sword and took stance again.

After a few rounds, Starr started to feel even more comfortable with their game. Sure, she'd practiced sword fighting with the clansmen, but there was something about the skill of fencing that relaxed her. Her mind cleared and she felt at peace; it was therapeutic.

Seeing that Starr had clearly advanced, Parker picked up his game.

A couple hours later, as midnight approached, they made their way back to the lounge where Parker poured drinks.

"What's wrong, Starr?"

He handed her a miniature glass cup with amber red liquid.

Her worries returned as soon they'd stopped fighting. Her feelings must have shown on her face.

"I don't know."

"You do know; I can tell."

She looked at him a moment, and then decided to let it all out.

"I just don't know what I'm up against. I have this feeling that an end is approaching, though for who or what, I don't know. I hate being in the dark. You know, I'm a creature of habit. I like routine and I like knowing."

"I think what's going is you're scared. Maybe you don't realize it because complex emotions are something we don't typically have, but you've had an experience that most vampires will never know, thanks to spending time with your soul. But you're wrong about one thing: you do know what you're up against. Let's think about it: What do you know about Credenza?"

"She's strong."

He choked with sarcasm on his liqueur.

"Come on, Starr; aside from that."

"She's me, in a way. I can't get past it. I'm up against myself, and I might have to destroy a copy of myself."

That night, Starr went to bed feeling better than she had in weeks. Just as before, time with Parker made her think in a more critical way, leaving her some peace in finally making realizations.

The next morning, a large, old bus was parked in front of the castle. Adam had it driven up so they could ride to Dacia Palace.

She and the men grazed over a buffet, and then left at 8 a.m.

"Be safe," Adam said, kissing her on both cheeks; Mitch did the same.

"Tell Madam Balaji we miss her."

Starr sat behind Seth on the old bus. He groaned with the way the gears were old and stubborn, and kept getting stuck. She bounced up and down in her seat as the bus made its way down the windy road.

"You seem different," he said, looking at her in the mirror.

"I feel better, today."

The trip was long and uneventful. When they passed through Sibiu, Starr noticed that the population was still thriving. Months ago the parliament was stormed by vamped out vampires but the people seemed to be doing alright, although traffic was slight.

A little while later, they continued down a desolate road, onto a freeway with parked cars. As they wound their way through cars, they saw that many of them still had their dead patrons inside. Their dead and rotted bodies had clearly been torn apart by the vamped out vamps.

Starr nodded off.

~~~

Gold heated her eyelids and face, making her uncomfortable. She turned her head, trying to escape, but it was all around, soaking up her scalp.

She opened her eyes and saw they were in the countryside.

Miles and miles of forest surrounded them.

"We're almost there," shouted Seth, over the loud grumble of the engine.

She stood up and stretch in her seat.

Just as she sat down, she was lifted from her seat. It happened so fast that she didn't have time to register that she'd been flung to the end of the bus.

Covered in strange debris, she shook her head and felt many things fling off her, and make shattering noises.

Realizing it was the sound of glass, she vigorously shook her hands, and pulled the inside of her sweater over her face and wiped her eyes. Gently, she opened them and looked around.

All the windows were shattered, and nearly all of the clansmen had disappeared.

"Are you okay?" asked Druce, from a few feet away. He struggled to stand, and then brushed glass of his chest.

"Yeah, I'm alright."

Several young fledglings heaved themselves up and slid their way to the door of the bus. It was then she realized that they'd been flipped, and the seats were now above her head.

Starr and Druce left the bus.

Outside, the bodies of the clansman were flung everywhere. Ikael was alright, but he was resetting his leg which was separated from his body. Others were moaning, but a few were okay. Some of the men were missing, though.

Starr turned and walked around to the other side of the flipped bus and saw Aine, on the ground, twitching in a pool of blood.

"Oh my god!" Starr shouted. "Druce, Ciaran, get over here!"

She ran and fell to her knees, beside her.

"What? Where?" was all she could get out. It seemed like her body was in pieces. The blood made it hard to see where exactly she needed to be put back together.

Druce and Ciaran fell to the ground, next to her.

Aine's mouth opened and closed, as a blood bubble formed over her lips.

"What do we do?"

Then she realized that she didn't see Seth anywhere."

Seth?"she called.

She stood up and ran to the other side of the bus. There he was, in the distance, running up a winding road. At the top was a large castle; the one from her dreams.

Starr turned around on the spot, trying to sense if anyone was there. It seemed whoever attacked the bus had gone.

She ran back around to Druce and Ciaran.

"Seth's headed up the mountain. He must be going for help. I'm gonna go after him. Whoever attacked is gone, and I don't sense anyone else. Will you be okay?"

"Yes, just make it quick. If no one's there, come back. We can move everyone up there to the castle, to heal and rest."
Syncing Essence
Chapter 6

She ran across the field, calling "Seeeth!"but he didn't turn. From him, she got a sense of eagerness. Something was wrong.

He reached the top of the mountain as Starr was half way up the road. The further up she got, the more the place looked familiar to her as well, and not just from her dreams or visions.

At the top, there was an enormous gate that had a double door set built into it. Starr slipped through the door and immediately was taken aback by the scents that sent her mind reeling.

She turned on foot over and over. The air was spinning; she was so dizzy. She felt the pounding of hundreds of feet on the ground. Arrows whizzed past her, and a man lost his head to her swift blow of her sword.

Gravel cut into her knees painfully, making her moan, and drawing her back to sanity. She breathed in ward and looked around – no one was there. She didn't know what was going on, but she had to get help, and get to Seth.

Trying to brush off whatever just happened, she followed his scent through the open doors of the entrance.

"Seeeth!" she called, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Quickly, she went through the entrance, and turned right and found herself going down a hall. Mentally, she looked into as many of the rooms as she could, but saw nothing. She sensed nothing, but then she stopped in front of an arched wood door.

She felt warm; a tickle traveled down her back. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to the door with the familiar circular carving. In the center of the familiar carving was a large black eye.

She pushed back the door.

Inside was a large canopied bed. Portraits hung everywhere, and a large desk sat in the corner.

However, while she saw the bed and bland wallpaper, what surfaced in her mind, behind her eyes was a large stone walled room. Directly across from where she stood, in the doorway, a large shutter was opened in a glassless window; through it, she saw a gray, rainy cloud.

She looked left to the fireplace in the wall. On the hearth was a plate of bread and a small roasted bird.

Starr walked in, looking around. A familiar red tapestry hung on the wall.

She walked to the shuttered window and looked out. Instead of the upturned bus, and the bodies of clansmen, she saw a farm of animals roaming about.

Starr knew she needed to help the clansman, but she was frozen in fear. Was she going crazy?

Suddenly, it was like someone turned out the lights. Black bled from the corners of her mind, moving to the front of her field of vision.

She tried to wake, to force open the lids of her eyes.

When she finally opened them, it was to find she was in bed.

Someone burst into her room and said, "It's time to go, my lady."

Starr walked across the room to get something, though it wasn't really she who walked across the room. As before, it was like her consciousness was tied to the woman, and it saw what she saw yet held no influence over her actions.

They walked to the mantle and picked up a brush; then stood in front of a large mirror and proceeded to brush their long, thigh length hair.

Starr's consciousness, in an ethereal sense, gasped. There, in the glass, she stood, but she wore a long, grey linen dress; something women of the Middle Ages wore.

From her ears hung rubies, and atop her head, a jewel encrusted crown.

Someone called to her. "Starr," the voice said.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't respond. She was stuck in that time and in that body. Although she cried, the woman didn't notice anything was wrong.

Starr was so scared that it felt as if her soul was weeping.
More about the series:

Lost and want to play catch up?

Visit the Vampin Box Set Year One Books 1-9, and Year 2, 10-15.

Vampin Year 2 Series to Date:

#10 Primordial

#11 Valhol

#12 Road to Heaven

#13 Lyssa

#14 Starr

#15 Syncing Essence

#16 No information yet

Originally a monthly short with the Black Press Online, Vampin is now available as a monthly teen series.

http://vampinofficialsite.com

