Antithesis: The Vampire Alliance Book Three - FIRST DRAFT COMPLETED

Antithesis Chapter 4: Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan May 2013

Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan, May 2013

The rehabilitation class was a success in the end, a catalyst for change. Better still, my birthday hunting trip went off without a hitch and Tul had even been smiling by the time we returned to base. The outing had set his mood for the last week and it’s a relief to see him climbing from his pit of despair. He isn’t happy exactly, but he is, at least, more optimistic than he has been since the incident.

Points to him, he can now go a full round in the sparring ring with most vampires. He even does so with a degree of ease. He’s not happy that he isn’t yet up to taking on anything more than a garden-variety vampire, naturally, but personally I’m thrilled with the progress. Unfortunately so is Johan, and that’s where I have a problem. A real problem.

My first reaction when Johan suggested deploying Tul on a mission had been dismay, followed by outright anger and an argument. That had been Rob’s reaction too. What resulted was a battle with Rob and I on one side and Tul and Johan on the other. Rob and I wanted to protect Tulloch, and I guess even we can’t help but see him as handicapped when faced with the possibility of him going out and fighting the Senate. We don’t want to lose him and that makes us both nervous considering it’s already come uncomfortably close to that more than once recently.

Our resistance is only serving to piss Tulloch off however, and that irritation is giving him the determination to do exactly as Johan asks.

He’s hurt by the knowledge we don’t want him to come with us. Truthfully though, it isn’t that I don’t want him with us. It’s that I don’t want him thrown into a battle before he’s ready for it. Of course I want Tul at my side. When he isn’t I feel... Well I feel less, weaker. Just like when Rob isn’t at my side. That doesn’t mean I want Tul risking his life unnecessarily when he’s only just begun to show signs of recovery. If he gets himself killed… I can’t bear the thought.

Johan overruled Rob and I, reminding me that I was the one who’d pressed the importance of Tul being himself. He pointed out that fighting the Senate is part of what makes Tul who he is and I don’t disagree. I’m just afraid. Unfortunately my fear isn’t enough to sway Johan or dissuade Tul. So, on Johan’s command, he’s sitting alongside us as we wait with Craig and Alex around the table in the Briefing Room.

I’m less than enthusiastic about Tul’s presence. Unfortunately, voicing my opinion again will only bring about another argument and I don’t want to argue with Tul. There’s little point in stating my concerns even if I do want to scream them at anyone who’ll listen. Another fight isn’t going to help anyone, not now. Not when Johan’s made his decision.

“Just spit it out Eve,” hisses Tul as we wait for our leader to return, “rather than sitting there seething.”

“I have nothing to say.” My tension is sure to give me away however, and I doubt he’ll accept that response.

Laughing, he appears to be amused by my answer but I can feel his anger. Craig and Alex jump in surprise when he slams his hand down onto the table and turns to me, eyes silvered with irritation. “Admit it, you don’t think I’ll be any use, you don’t think I’m strong enough and you think I’ll be more of a hindrance than a help. You didn’t actually believe your speeches about how I could learn to manage, did you?”

“I think you’re stronger than either of them,” nodding towards Alex and Craig, it’s a simple statement of fact. “However, you are my husband and I don’t want you to die because you’ve rushed into something you aren’t ready for. A week ago you wouldn’t have left our room, now you want to be deployed on some anti-Senate mission. That’s a bigger leap than I was expecting. It’s a more sudden transformation that I’d been prepared for.

Anyway, you can hardly blame me for my reluctance. Were you happy when I wanted to attack the arena?”

“That was different,” Tulloch snarls, “you were mortal.”

“I was substantially more than human.” My response is instant and honest. I had been perfectly able to hold my own against a vampire, even back then, for a while at least.

“You nearly died, or have you forgotten?” His reminder isn’t completely unexpected although it is unnecessary. It’s not easy to forget having a hole blasted through your chest.

“You could die too! Or are you in denial?” The answer is icier than I had planned it to sound, but I don’t seem capable of restraining myself. “Anyway, I had mitigating circumstances. And I could be saved. If they go as far as to fatally wound you there’ll be nothing I can do about it. I gave you everything there is to give when I saved your life the last time you chose to ignore me. Sorry, the second to last time. If you’d listened last time we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.” That was unnecessarily harsh, even true as it may be. I shouldn’t have said it out loud.

Tul growls, his eyes growing angrier by the minute. “So now it’s my own fault?”

“Of course not,” my answer is as heated as his expression. “It’s the Senate’s fault. It’s always the fucking Senate’s fault. But seriously, would you like me not to care? Would you like me not to worry? I could probably arrange that, you know, just switch off and stop all this blasted anxiety.”

“Don’t you dare blackmail me with that!” His anger seethes in my chest and his fist clenches in a useless attempt to control the emotion. The feeling only exaggerates my own frustration as our mutual irritation bounces off each other’s consciousness.

“Then don’t ask me to be any less upset about you risking your life than you were about me risking mine, because turning off is the only way I know how to do as you want.”

We glare at each other, our frustration and Rob’s tainting the air. The tension in here is palatable and Craig and Alex study the table intently rather than look at us. The scent of their discomfort can’t compete with the petrol tang of our aggravation.

The door of the Briefing Room swings open but Johan pauses before stepping inside, enquiring meaningfully, “Is everything alright in here?”

“Absolutely fine,” Tul answers without breaking eye contact with me.

Turning away I grit my teeth. Oh yeah, everything is peachy in here, just peachy. There’s an audible crack as the wooden edge of the table splinters under my hand. I hadn’t even realised I’d been gripping the mahogany tabletop.

“Control,” Johan mutters in warning as he strolls past me to take his seat. “You’ve never had a real newly-turned temper tantrum, let’s not start now, eh?”

Refraining from making any comment I place the wooden shards on the table and try to calm my temper without overstepping the mark and doing something I shouldn’t do. As calmly as possible I look up at Johan, compliant, waiting for him to expand on the purpose of our mission.

“Ok,” he begins, choosing not to dwell on the dysfunction within his team. “Humans are being taken from the streets; at night, during the day, even from their own homes. Right now even I wish the myth regarding vampires, dwellings and our need for an invitation had some foundation in truth. As it is, the Senate are not going to stop until they own every human. Unless we disrupt their plans, that is.”

Spreading a number of A1 size floor plans out on the table in front of us, Johan explains, “These are farms, all of them in Northumberland and Tyne and Wear. I want to attack one of them, free the people, destroy the facilities and bring chaos and mayhem to the regime responsible for harvesting human blood and using human slaves.

We don’t have enough people to mount a full scale assault against the Senate, not yet, but I want to at least show them and the Redeemers that we’re going to fight. They need to be warned clearly that we aren’t just going to roll over and surrender because they’ve burned down our home. We need to do something decisive because lately they’ve pushed us into a desperate corner.”

“Which one?” Rob asks, studying the plans, “These are all underground or highly fortified facilities. The Senate will be guarding them as determinedly as the Redeemers, surely? Any attack will be dangerous. Where do we have the best chance?”

I know what he’s going to ask even before Johan turns to me, gazing at me with expectation in his eyes as he repeats the question, “Which one?”

How the hell should I know? I don’t have control over my prophetic ability. Not like he’s asking me to. I get flashes and dreams and occasionally, if I focus really hard, I’ll hear a whisper. The past is slightly easier because it’s set, but the future is fluid. It’s difficult to force a prediction because the future isn’t fixed. People change their minds and when they do sequences of events change. Surely Johan can’t really be asking me to make this decision? Surely he can’t be asking me to take responsibility for our lives? Yet, as he patiently watches me, I know that’s exactly what he’s doing. Shit.

“I can’t,” I murmur, “I don’t know how. I’ve never been able to focus like that on the future.”

“Just try.” The words are an order from a leader I’d sworn to follow. How naive had I been when I’d sworn allegiance? I can’t justify rebelling but I don’t know how to comply either.

With a despondent sigh I place my hands on the first sheet of paper. There’s nothing, no flash of inspiration, no vision of what might be or even what is or what has been. There’s simply nothing. Minutes tick by and as I sit there drawing a blank I feel thoroughly humiliated. A flush scorches my cheeks and I’m ashamed of my inability, but it’s not like I’ve been trained for this. There’s no one to train me. I’m flying blind, just as with being Strix.

“Well I guess we’ll have to pick one at random,” Johan concedes eventually, resigned, before adding pointedly, “Although that does put everyone’s lives at risk. What a shame.”

As he’d no doubt anticipated I don’t just hear the words. I hear an implication too, ‘what an unnecessary shame.’ I suppose this is my just desserts for manipulating Tul into doing as I’d wanted. Is it really a surprise that Johan would try to manipulate me?

Growling I mutter, “One of these days I’ll be a person rather than a tool.”

Rob’s hand slides up my spine, his proximity and care is gently comforting and I’m grateful for that. Forcing my shoulders to relax, I inhale deeply, trying to push aside all my anxieties and doubts. Exhaling slowly I do my best to clear my mind of my immediate surroundings and open it to something else entirely.

I am a conduit. I am a conduit. The past, the present and the future can pass through me. I am a channel and all of time flows through me.

When I reach out for the second time I barely touch the paper before the vision hits me. The apparition is the quickest flash of momentary pain and the sight of slate blue eyes staring blankly, clouding in death. The smell of Tul’s blood is enough to drag a snarl from me, and I crumple the plan I’m holding in my hand. Upon tossing the floor plan into the bin with impeccable precision, it becomes a struggle not to do the same with all the plans. The desire to flatly refuse to obey orders is unbearable.

“I take it that’s a no, then?” Johan queries. “What did you see?”

When I growl again I notice that my fangs are on display, fully descended thanks to the rush of protective anger pulsing inside me. I glance briefly at Tul and that’s enough of an admission for everyone. They can figure out what I saw for themselves.

The obstinate ass in question simply leans back in his seat, saying softly, “Well, try the next one, because I am coming with you.”

“You’re a stubborn arse.” It’s not an easy task, fighting down the urge to force him back to our room and lock him there.

“I inherited it from my sires.” His retort doesn’t help my mood any as I reach for the next plan.

I can’t tell where we would have success as far as disrupting the Redeemers operation goes, but I can see where we’ll lose people and I stack those floor plans separately. Well, with the exception of the couple I throw towards the bin. No one bothers asking me about those facilities and both of my husbands shift uncomfortably when whatever I see provokes such a visceral reaction. 

Despite having to repeatedly witness my loved ones die, it’s not the possibility of their brutal deaths that finally brings me to my knees. That honour is reserved for the last plan, the drawing which leaves me choking down a scream even though I see neither Rob nor Tul.

It’s one thing to expect to die, quite another to see, feel, predict your own end.

I feel the silver nitrate filled bullets tearing into my flesh, bursting into my heart and splintering my skull as they explode into my brain. They aren’t what will kill me, of course, but there’ll be enough of them to knock me over, knock me out. It’ll be when I open my eyes again, when I push myself up onto my knees that the sword will descend on my neck. It’ll burn as they take my head, in the milliseconds before I die.

Struggling to breathe, my heart seems to stop as the vision ends. My chest aches excruciatingly as I force my lungs to expand, as I force myself to live, to come back to the Briefing Room and not lose myself in what I’ve just seen. It would be so very easy to succumb to the panic.

“Eve?” Tul asks as he drops to the floor beside me.

“Love?” Rob prompts as he does the same.

Their joint anxiety floods me as I try to swallow the painful lump in my throat. It’s difficult to focus as tears well to burn my eyes. The first time I try to speak my voice is little more than an unintelligible croak. It takes a few minutes before I can look up at Johan and mumble, “I need five.” Rising, I stagger unsteadily to my feet and leave the room.

They follow me, Rob and Tul, guessing what I must have seen and what I must have felt. Pausing in the corridor I close my eyes as I lean back against the cool, concrete wall for support. The sense of dread is hardly surprising as it grips me. My heart races, my pulse pounding uncontrollably as real fear takes hold. It’s a fight to rein in my emotions and remind myself that the vision isn’t a certainty. I can avoid such a fate. I can. I will.

“Are you alright?” Rob’s tone is gentle as he takes my hand and my heart rate finally returns to its standard five beats per minute.

“I’ve just felt what it would be like to be shot several times in the heart and brain and then be decapitated. So no, I’m not alright.” My hand goes protectively to my neck as I murmur, “I don’t recommend that.”

“No, me neither.” Rob tugs me into his arms as I look up at him, my eyes flicking briefly to the scar on his own neck. He kisses my stubbly hair as he holds me close and whispers, “We just won’t go there, you never need to go there.”

I don’t need to go there. My concern is that no place is safe. Just because I haven’t predicted my end, or his, or Tul’s, doesn’t mean they’re not looming on the horizon. That’s why I’m so averse to Tul going out. Yet, look at how safe he’d been in the last base. If nothing else that experience has shown me that I could lose either of them anywhere, and I don’t want to take the risk of any one of us dying without first healing the hurt left by our arguments.

Raising my head from Rob’s chest I reach out for Tul. He kisses me as he steps forward, wrapping his arms around me too. I breathe in the scent of them, the two men either side of me, comforted by their proximity. Losing either of them again would be unbearable.

“Yet in the end I’d prefer it were me than some of the alternatives,” I tell them honestly. Sighing, I shrug, shaking off my melancholy. “Come on, Johan has a job for us to do. Hopefully I’ve removed the worst case scenarios.”

“Are you alright?” our leader asks as we take our seats.

“Well, we know where not to go, have you decided where we are going?” I ask, not having an answer to his original question.

Selecting one of the plans and pushing the rest to the side, Johan nods solemnly. “You didn’t scowl so much at this one.”

I manage to force chuckle for his benefit, “Well, I guess that’s as good a reason as any.”