Antithesis: The Vampire Alliance Book Three - FIRST DRAFT COMPLETED

Antithesis Chapter 3: Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan May 2013

Eve Blakethorn, May 2013

“Get up,” My toe nudges under Tul, urging him to rise while Rob stands at the door shaking his head. This has been going on for the last half an hour and the stubborn ass at my feet is still refusing to do as he’s told. This was never going to be easy, but his resistance is infuriating. “You’re going to the dojo. Now. Even if I have to pick you up and carry you. You might as well go under your own steam, Tul.”

Finally irritated by my incessant prodding, Tul rolls onto his back to stare balefully up at me as he mutters, “What’s the point?”

“You need to realise that you can fight with just your left hand, so you’re damn well going to the dojo to practise.”

While explaining this for the sixth or seventh time I try my hardest to keep my voice sympathetic but I know he can feel my frustration. Of course I feel sorry for him; I have enough regret to drown in it. However I’m irritated by situation too, at not being able to make him see that he will cope, that he can manage. That’s why it’s time for my ploy.

“Anyway, I want you up and about because we’re going hunting tomorrow.”

“Johan has blood brought in. We aren’t allowed to go out hunting, not after what happened the last time you went out, it’s too dangerous,” he grumbles, using Johan’s restrictions as his excuse for continuing to refuse to get up.

Shrugging off his protestations, I try not to be hurt that he hasn’t remembered what tomorrow is. After all, he might be my sire but he’s not in a fabulous condition presently. “I’ve been given special dispensation as long as I manage to get you on your feet and to the dojo. Johan knows the three of us have better survival chances than the others. Plus I need a birthday treat.”

“Your birthday’s in October,” Tul grumbles, rolling back onto his front and burying his face in the pillow.

Folding my arms over my chest I retort slowly, “Not that one, sire.”

“Oh,” he mumbles into the bedding, his surprise flowing into me.

“Oh,” breathes Rob at the same time. Clearly he’s either forgotten the date as well, or he’s blocked from his memory the fact he’d blasted a hole in my chest and made becoming a vampire my only option for survival.

I would have died if Tul hadn’t grown desperate and agreed to change me, and tomorrow I’ll have been a vampire for a whole year. It’s more than a little miraculous that I’ve survived so long.

“So,” I prompt again, “you’re going to take me hunting tomorrow to celebrate. Johan will only let you come if you get yourself to the dojo today. That’s his only condition.” Adopting my very best petulant tone I whine, “Please Tul, I’ll be so disappointed if you don’t.”

How much of a child do I feel? Never mind, sometimes you have to swallow the remnants of your pride in order to achieve a goal. It’s not like I have much pride left to make swallowing difficult.

Muttering something unintelligible Tul climbs to his feet, stalking past me towards the bathroom. I think I hear the word “fine” in there somewhere but I could be mistaken.

Rob chuckles as Tul disappears behind the closing ensuite door. “That was manipulative, perhaps even slightly cruel.”

“It got him up, didn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer, but Tul’s voice drifts out of the bathroom, coloured by prickly irritation. “I can still hear you.”

“Good,” my reply is filled with sarcasm but it’s good natured. Relief provides me with a burst of cheer. “I had been trying to decide if you’d developed a hearing problem or if you were only selectively deaf. Anyway, everything I said is the truth. We are allowed out tomorrow and I can only take you if you go and try some rehab today. I will, genuinely, be disappointed if you spoil it for me. A year ago who’d have thought we’d all be alive and on the same side? A celebration is overdue.” Some things are still worth celebrating.

There’s no reply but the sound of running water tells me he’s in the shower and that’s a step in the right direction. I’m going to assume he believes my claim. Now if I can get him to leave our room and feed we may actually have real progress. Tul needs to move on but he’s never going to manage that if he spends the rest of his existence lying in here, contemplating his own demise.

Once he’s washed and dressed in clean clothes I almost tug him from the room, desperate to get him to the dojo before he can change his mind. A few people glance at him with open shock and horror as we pass, and I can feel his humiliation. Thankfully, most don’t eye him for long, not with Rob glaring until they turn away. Our colleagues need to get used to Tul’s injury too, just as much as he does. They need to accept him so he can accept himself. Rob and I will apply pressure to ensure that if necessary.

My hand slips into Tul’s as Rob reaches and opens the dojo door. Leaning up I kiss his cheek and whisper, “You’ll be fine. I love you, Tulloch Sullivan, my husband.”
Closing his eyes he takes a deep breath before stepping purposefully past Rob. Please let this work. Please let him be ok.

Inside only Madeleine waits for us. The rehabilitation coach is a petite woman whose bearing is confident despite her delicate looking stature and her obvious disability. Many centuries ago she’d lost her right arm all the way up to her shoulder, not that the missing limb seems to hinder her much now.

Madeleine’s been running the rehabilitation classes provided for those injured in the Senate attack, but upon Johan’s request she’s agreed to see Tul privately. He’ll have to join the main classes eventually but first we need to persuade him he has the ability join the others.  Right now he’s too embarrassed, too ashamed, but I’m hoping Madeleine may alleviate some of that.

Tul glances back at me and I answer his unspoken question with shrug and a reassuring smile. “We thought you might appreciate some one on one time before we force you into the classes.”

“Tulloch.” Madeleine smiles warmly as she speaks and her voice sweet, soft and encouraging, it immediately irritates me. Although there’s nothing disconcerting behind her smile I can’t help the pang of defensive jealously that ripples through me before I can squash it down.

Rob and Tul both glance at me and I roll my eyes at their quirked brows, retorting in embarrassment, “I’m not even one yet. People keep forgetting that. I’m allowed to be an emotionally incompetent baby vamp occasionally, you know.”

Rob laughs but Tul simply focuses back on his instructor, who in turn throws a wooden training sword towards him. He reacts automatically with his right arm, knocking the weapon uselessly to the floor. Wincing at the wave of self-abhorrent shame that flows through him, I wish I could help. He can only learn this for himself, however, no matter how much I wish I could bear some of his suffering for him.

“And that will be your toughest challenge,” comments Madeleine, picking up the wooden sword and handing it to him instead. “With a century of life behind you every move you make is instinctual. It’ll take practise for you to get comfortable using your left hand instead of your right. However, it will only feel natural once you start living your life and using your left hand.”

Her expression is easy to read; everyone knows he’s been in hiding. Thankfully there’s only slight accusation in her eyes.  She’s simply telling him the truth of the matter, even if he doesn’t want to hear it.

“Fighting will be hard, warriors use muscle memory to react almost instinctively during combat. At first you will move as if your weapon is in your right hand and you will expose yourself. Practise until you’re used to fighting left handed. You can re-teach your body provided you’re determined to do so, but it’s only possible if you believe you can make it possible.

I’ve been led to believe you have certain advantages thanks to your wife’s blood; speed, agility, strength beyond what of most of us posses. Use that. She’s given you a gift and it would be selfish to continue to waste it.”

At Madeleine’s implication Rob angrily mutters, “He’s just lost his hand!”

His defensive outrage is comforting. I still appreciate the reminder that he cares for Tul and that Tul cares for him. I appreciate knowing that I haven’t destroyed their friendship. Maybe Pat had been right back at Norham house, perhaps their relationship is special, more so than most friendships?

Madeleine doesn’t turn to us as she responds abruptly, “Shut up or get out, Blakethorn. You can help him or you can hinder him, if you chose the latter it won’t be in this room.”

Rob opens his mouth to respond but closes it when my elbow strikes his ribs and I smile placidly at Madeleine. “He’ll be quiet.” She’s Tul’s best chance and I’d like to get through at least one session without Rob being banned from the dojo.

Her initial assessment had been correct and as we watch Tul try to fight her we bear to witness every instance when he twists the wrong way, steps where he shouldn’t, or tries to use his right arm when his left is holding his weapon. His frustration increases every time Madeleine knocks his training sword from his hand or positions herself so he’s forced to yield. His anger increases alongside his self-loathing and just as quickly his self-worth plummets to new depths.

This could so easily destroy him. Perhaps Madeleine was never going to be a miracle cure but it’s hard for me to accept that Tul’s situation could get worse before it gets better. Worse might just kill him. But what alternative is there?

Sensing the moment he’s ready to throw down his sword and storm out, I stride purposefully to the weapons cupboard and retrieve targets and throwing knives. Madeleine’s scent sours with irritation at my intervention and she glares at me as I position the training equipment and take the training sword from Tul’s grasp.

“What are you doing?” she hisses at me furiously. “I’ve already warned you about interfering.”

Arching a defiant brow, I hand Tul a throwing knife before I bother to answer her. “You’re losing him. If you break him down now you aren’t going to be able to build him back up. You haven’t given him a reason to believe you can build him back up. He doesn’t trust you and right now you aren’t helping him.”

“Pandering doesn’t help recovery,” the other woman hisses at me, putting her hand out for the knives.

“No, it doesn’t.” Looking up at Tul I admit, “Sooner or later you’re going to have to do as Madeleine asks but I want to show you something first. You need to realise what you are and that isn’t simply vampire, not anymore.”

Placing my hand on his right arm I point out, “You think that this makes you less and maybe if you were fighting me, or Rob, or one of the Senate’s Strix then yes, you might struggle. You’ll need to practise and train hard to be on an equal footing in such circumstances. However, against most vampires, the Enforcers, and even the Palatinus, you have an advantage. You’ve had an advantage from the moment I turned you and as long as you can hold a blade that isn’t going to change.” Nodding towards the target I take a step back, giving him room to throw the first knife.

Tul frowns at me, shaking his head doubtfully, but he takes aim anyway. The throwing blade slices through the air, its momentum driving it straight through the target and hilt deep into the wall behind. Tul’s expression is comical as his mouth drops open in surprise and he stares at the perfectly central hole he’s just blasted through the board. If the target had been a vampire and the bull’s-eye its heart, the enemy would’ve been dead before he could come near enough to engage Tul in close quarters combat.

“Your sense of sight is better than it has ever been before.” He shouldn’t need the reminder but I explain anyway. “Your natural co-ordination and balance have improved. Your strength and stamina and speed have been enhanced a hundred times over. Yes, it may take a while for you to learn just how strong you are and how much force to apply at any given time,” I confess, speculatively eyeing the knife which is now deeply embedded in the concrete wall. “But as far as these knives or your gun goes, you’re already better than you have been most of your life. You can fight, just as well as most.”

“And the sword?” he asks softly, still doubtful.

“Think of it as if you’d never learned to fight with a katana in the first place. All you’re doing here is learning how to move your body, just like you did when learning how to fight right handed. Yes, it’s difficult and you’ll stumble, just like you will have done the first time you were handed a sword. Your body doesn’t yet know what it’s doing, but it can be taught. In the meantime we’ll arm you with knives and guns.” That’s the most I have to offer. It’s not much but I hope I’ve given him something which may help him, which he might be able to work with. Please let it be enough.

His now weapon-free fingers touch my cheek as his injured arm goes around my waist. He traces my lips before lowering his mouth to mine and giving me a kiss which is more determined than any he’s given since we attacked Charleston’s house. “I love you,” he breathes against my lips, “so much more than I would’ve thought possible.”

“I love you too.” Grinning I kiss his nose, his lips, his jaw. “Rob and I are on patrol now. Train with Madeleine then meet us in the rec room later, ok?”

The idea of being in public makes him anxious and he frowns deeply at the mention of the recreation room. He manages to nod despite his reservations and I give him an extra kiss for encouragement before we leave him. I really hope Madeleine can build on the foundations I’ve laid. If she damages him further I’ll kill her, I swear it.

“Did you know he’d be as good with knives as he is?” Rob asks me once we’re well away from the dojo and out of hearing distance.

“Nope,” my answer is honest even if it’s not the one he wanted to hear. “I just had suspicions based on how much my abilities improved. While I don’t approve of their methods, the Senate did teach me how instantly the improvements could be used with the correct motivation. I didn’t know for sure he’d hit anything close to a bull’s-eye though. I just, well, I just hoped for the best. We needed something to motivate him, something for him to believe in.”

Taking my hand as we make our way to the briefing room, Rob tugs me closer to his side. “You’re a miracle worker, love.”