Antithesis: The Vampire Alliance Book Three - FIRST DRAFT COMPLETED

Antithesis Chapter 34: Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan September 2013

Eve Blakethorn-Sullivan, September 2013

Sadly I can’t roll back time and apparently I’m going to have to suck it up. I made my bed and I lay in it, now I have to face the consequences.

Dr Franklin hunkers on the floor in front of me, irritated that I won’t even look at him as I stare blankly ahead. Staring at the bland concrete expanse of Van’s bedroom wall I wish I could block out the world. “You need to eat three or four meals a day, you understand? Three or four human meals. You also need to increase your blood intake. You have to feed every other day at least, ideally you’ll feed daily.”

“And if I don’t?”

My query is met with concern, a doctors concern for his patient. “It’s very rare for vampires to conceive and when they do many miscarry. Being well fed on food and blood lessens the risk of miscarriage.”

“And if I want to miscarry?” I ask, wincing at the horror pouring from Rob and Tul at the suggestion. They had forced their way in to Van’s room when Franklin arrived to go over everything he hadn’t managed to discuss yesterday. I’ve been determinedly ignoring their presence ever since.

I don’t know how to handle this. I’ve never been this far out of my depth. I can’t best this with a katana or a gun or by being my normal, stubborn self.  So much is wrong with this, so much is at risk, and I don’t know which path to take. If I give in to Rob and Tul one or both of them could die, I need to see to Charleston to prevent that. At the same time they’re right, if I go after Hardy then they could lose me and the... the baby. What do I do?

“Don’t talk like that Eve,” pleads Tul, panic stricken. “This is a good thing,” he assures me but I can’t see it. I can’t see anything positive in this, not now.

“You’re going to eat,” Rob announces in, his tone far harsher than Tul’s.

Does he really think he can just tell me what I can and cannot do? Who replaced my husband with this ass? Good God, if this is what the thought of a baby does to him what will happen when he actually has to become a sleep deprived parent?

As my ire rises the usual petrol tang of anger flavours the air, displaying my irritation to Dr Franklin and Van as clearly as our connection reveals it to Rob and Tul. “I’m going to eat? Or what Rob? Are you going to tie me up and force feed me? Maybe you’d like to put me in one of the cells just to make sure I can’t go against any of your plans?”

“If I need to,” he hisses, his expression darker than I’d seen it since 1352 had realised he loved me.

“Rob!” Tul snarls, as dismayed as I am by his attitude. “You aren’t helping anything by playing the master. Quite frankly I would’ve liked to spend last night discussing baby names because goodness knows we need something to celebrate and anticipate in our lives. Instead I spent it camped outside Van’s door while my wife point blank refused to speak to me and that was your doing. She’s in shock, we need to talk about this calmly and you’re acting like... Well you’re acting like Robert Blakethorn the Second, blithely unaware of anyone’s feelings but your own.”

“She’s threatening to abort our child.” The bellowed response doesn’t help the increasing tension at all. “I’m trying to protect her,” insists Rob, he tone growing more desperate. “I’m not playing the master.”

Unable to bite back the retort I hiss at him, “No, it’s more like you’re playing Paladin. Lock her up, force her to feed; haven’t we been here before 1352?”

“That was uncalled for,” Tul reprimands me as Rob’s eyes flash an unusually angry silver. “But she has a point Rob. We can’t force her to do anything, protecting her is one thing but what you’re suggesting is quite another.”

Rob scowls, his hands clenching into fists as he growls back at Tul. “You assess that how exactly? You haven’t been so adept at protecting her in the past.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Tul demands, his own eyes blazing silver-white as his fangs drop and incensed fury pours off him in waves.

“Oh, I don’t know Keep, maybe that you didn’t stop her from coming to the execution? Perhaps I mean that you almost let a Redeemer kill her? I asked you to protect her and instead you allowed her to be captured by the Senate twice even before Robbie caused her death. You’ve never managed to protect her!” Rob accuses, completely unnecessarily.

“Oh sure, it’s everyone’s fault but yours. You didn’t get yourself captured and bring about the execution did you? You never shot her or tortured her or forced her to runaway.” Tul’s strained control finally snaps and I clutch my cheek as his fist ploughs into Rob’s face. They both reel back, both feeling the impact just as I do even though only Rob’s face briefly shows a purple bruise before he heals.

Despite their connection to each other Rob still retaliates and I gasp as his knuckles shatter Tul’s nose, causing my face to feel as though it’s exploding. They lay into each other and briefly I wonder if they’ll actually tear one another apart. I curl up, automatically trying to protect my body from every blow although the act is useless against the psychic assault.

“Have you two completely lost your minds?” Van roars as she and Dr Franklin try unsuccessfully to separate the two Strix I had created. “You do realise that you’re hurting your pregnant wife as well as each other?”

That gets their attention at least, although not before their faces and fists are covered in each other’s blood. Tears spill over my cheeks as I curl up on Van’s sofa, distraught and thinking that our baby is already causing trouble.

Regret burns painfully in Rob’s chest as his eyes soften, his expression guilty. “I’m sorry Eve,” he admits softly. “I’m just...”

“Scared?” I finish for him. I know he’s frightened. He’s terrified of me facing Hardy, of me losing the baby, of losing me. “Tul’s right though, you don’t need to act like an arsehole about it.”

A determined rap on the door interrupts whatever reply he’s about to make. We’re still assessing each other as Dr Franklin opens the door and Johan steps into Van’s room. His expression becomes one of displeasure as he notes the blood drying on my husbands’ knuckles and faces. “I take it the honeymoon is over?”

“Can we help you with something?” Tul requests stiffly, shame-faced.

“I’d like to see the three of you in the meeting room. I’m calling together all of the security team as Cameron wants to organise an assault on the Senate. His change of heart is quite awe inspiring really, wouldn’t you say Robert?” Johan’s request causes Rob the briefest internal wince but to his credit his face remains impassive behind the mask of bloody streaks.

“I thought I had been removed from active duty?” I mutter angrily, leaning back on the sofa and debating my chances of getting away with refusing to obey commands.

“You have been. I’m not going to send you out as part of any attack,” Johan assures me, ignoring the fact his statement only serves to anger me. “You have other skills though, skills you seem rather fond of using in fact. Your sight could be invaluable in planning a successful attack on the Senate.”

“And if I refuse?”

My enquiry is met with a flat stare as Johan informs me grimly, “Then you will be putting lives at risk. More pointedly you’ll be putting Robert and Tulloch’s lives at risk as they will be expected to be part of the teams sent out. While that may not be hugely effective motivation at this present moment in time I’m confident you would come to regret any refusal to help us should one of them fail to return from combat.”

He doesn’t wait for my response, knowing already that I’ll do as I’m told. I always do. Instead he glances at Rob and Tul with mild disgust, “Clean yourselves up and be in the meeting room in five minutes. Honestly, you take a century to realise what you mean to each other and then the moment something good happens to the pair of you, you beat each other bloody? I’ve never been so disappointed in you.” With that scornful statement spoken he spins on his heel and stalks to the door, leaving a brief silence in his wake.

“He knew. He knew about...” Tul’s voice trails off.

Van rolls her eyes, scowling reproachfully at him, “Everyone who knew the pair of you loved each other decades ago Tulloch. The only people who didn’t realise were you and him.” She points at Rob. “Johab’s right though, the way you’re going on is entirely unacceptable. I appreciate that this in a one in a million event, that it’s unexpected and has come on the heels of a lot of upheaval and change for you all. But seriously, do the pair of you really think acting like this, putting this much stress on Eve, is going to help things?”

They don’t answer and for once I don’t try to assuage the guilt flowing through them both.

“I’m borrowing your bathroom,” Tul murmurs eventually, not bothering to wait for Van’s permission.

“I should go,” Dr Franklin comments while eying me speculatively. For once he looks upon with the eyes of a doctor rather than as a scientist who sees me as an interesting specimen to be pulled open and examined. “Do try to follow my instructions.”

“Apparently I have no choice.” My reply is bitter and Rob sighs as Franklin leaves. Sinking to the sofa beside me he wraps his bloodied fingers around mine in an uncertain gesture of affection. Without looking at him I remind him, “I’m not eighteen any more Rob. I need you to treat me like I’m a capable adult not like some disobedient child who needs to be told what to do.”

Nodding slowly he gives in to me. “I know. I’m sorry. I just couldn’t bear to lose you again. Eve,” he prompts, his expression tired. “I was denied the chance to raise the last child I created, please don’t deny me the chance to raise this baby.”

“You don’t even know if it’s yours,” I point out miserably. Rob and Tul seem able to cope with sharing me but then they love each other and that works out for all of us. But this? Can they really accept sharing fatherhood to a child when their paternity remains disputable?

“That doesn’t matter Eve, we were all present at its conception.” He forces a mischievous grin and adds lightly, “Anyway, if it ends up being blond and blue-eyed and obviously Keep’s we have all of our immortal lives to try for a second child.” Taking my chin gently he turns my head so that I have to meet his eye. “And if we had a second child we’d raise that one together as well. There is no mine, his, yours, this is our life now.” He emphasises the word ‘our’ as if I need his meaning clarified.

The honestly in his expression is almost painful to witness as he goes on, “You know, once, a long time ago, I had a dream. I chose a girl to propose to and all I wanted was to have a wife and a family and I destroyed my chance of achieving that with alcohol, gambling and generally being an ass. Then I destroyed Keep’s chance of having those things as well. Shortly thereafter I dragged us off to France and saw to losing our humanity. For the better part of a century I thought the dreams I’d lost may have gotten completely beyond my reach.” He places his hand on my belly, “This is the first vaguely normal thing to happen to us in a really long time love, please don’t ask me to give up on it.”

After tugging a facial cleansing wipe from the packet Van’s left on the table by the sofa I begin to clean the blood from Rob’s face. As I consider my next response I wish he could understand me but I highly doubt he ever will.

“My dreams keep being shattered too you know, violently enough and predictably enough to ensure I can’t trust in this.” I rest my hand on my stomach too. “This isn’t meant for me Rob, once upon a time I had hoped for a marriage that included a family but I’ve never been allowed to progress beyond ‘I do’ without all of my hopes being torn apart. What I get is like some corrupt version of monopoly, ‘Proceed straight to a Senate cell, do not pass go or go on honeymoon and do not collect two hundred pound.’ It’s inevitable.

I love you, I love Tul, I love that the three of us are managing together but that is all we are doing. We are surviving while we’re waiting for the next disaster. That is not going to change unless I stop Charleston. I could wait until the baby is born but by then how many people will have died? How do I explain to our child that the men who were supposed to be his or her fathers were both killed in action while I sat around in the base like some helpless damsel?

I know how this story ends Rob. I lose you or I lose Tul or I lose the baby or I lose all of the above. I know this because that’s how my life works. That’s the cycle I’m trapped in and the only way to get out of this repeating pattern is to bring down the Senate. To do that I must remove Charleston from power. Me. I have to do it. This is not the time to have a baby. We can only have a future if you let me do what needs to be done now.”

A horrifying stream of young faces flashes through my mind and I close my eyes. It doesn’t help. “Even if that weren’t the case I don’t deserve a child.” I remind him, “I don’t want to have a child, to love a child, not when I deserve to lose a child.”

“Those children fell victim to the Senate’s evil, Eve, you weren’t to blame,” he comments, understanding the reason for my guilty melancholy.

Rob sounds so sure, as sure as Tul always does, but I shake my head, denying his claim. “Have you absolved yourself of the crimes you committed under Senate command?”

He doesn’t answer and his silence is enough to tell me that he’s far from forgiving himself for the things he did as 1352 or even as Northern Chief.

Wearily I pull myself to my feet as Tul returns from the bathroom. “We keep fighting so other people can have normal lives,” I tell Rob, as I head for the door, “not so we can have normal lives. We have too much in our pasts to ever have normal lives. To think we can is delusional.”

“Then I want to be delusional,” he responds as we troop out of Van’s room, waving brief farewells as we go. “Promise me you won’t purposefully try to abort the pregnancy?” The request is not surprising although it disturbs me that I’m messed up enough for him to need to ask.

“I won’t,” I assure him. In spite of my earlier implications I can’t bring myself to pass a death sentence on a baby, especially our unborn baby. “I don’t have it in me. I will follow Dr Franklin’s instructions to the letter but that doesn’t mean I think this is anything other than a disaster waiting to happen. I’m too afraid to look into the future but nothing in me believes this is going to work out.”

“Stop being such a cynic,” Rob replies, taking my hand. I let him grip my fingers despite retaining a slight desire to follow Tul’s lead and punch him in the face.

Frowning I look him in the eye, studying each little change of his expression even as I inspect every fluctuation of emotion. “When was the last time you truly believed that life would be alright, that the future would be rosy, without even the slightest doubt?”

He strokes my cheek, regret in his expression and I can see the memory of our wedding just as clearly as he can.  “And how did that turn out for you?” My question is rhetorical; it’s not like we don’t all know how it turned out.

When Tul returns, blood and bruise free, we head for Johan’s office. They trail along in my wake, side by side. They want to hope but I’m not convinced I have it in me anymore. I want them to be happy but me? I don’t know if I can be. That thought’s still plaguing me when we get to the Briefing Room and take our seats.

Johan briefly casts a wary glance at us then begins. “Now we’re all here we can make a start. Mr Cameron has recently had a change of heart regarding the extermination of all vampires. I can only speculate as to his reasons for this u-turn,” Johan’s gaze meets mine for the slightest moment before flicking to Rob and Tul. “However, he is now desperate to bring down the Senate and the Redeemers in order to forge a treaty between the remaining vampires and the human race. Mr Cameron is willing to provide an army for us but as we have more knowledge of the Senate we will command all operations. Any action will be supported by the human military and police as well, as well as those humans and vampires who’ve sworn allegiance to the Alliance.

I am co-ordinating plans nationwide which I will require Eve to review so we can address any potential problems. However, the purpose of this meeting is to discuss a final assault on the primary Senate facility in the North, the Civic Centre. While the Centre is the hub for our local government it is also the hub of Charleston’s operations. We know it is a hugely important facility to the Senate. Most of their scientific advancements have taken place in Newcastle as well as Charleston using it as his chosen headquarters. We need to bring down that building and we need to bring down the politicians in that building.

We will have a number of humans helping us who will be separated into tactical teams which some of you will lead...”

“You’re taking humans to the Civic Centre?” I interrupt, unmoved by Johan’s reproving look. “I presume you’re going to forbid them from going anywhere near the Science Facility?”

“That will have to be destroyed too,” Johan answers bluntly, “seeing as our last endeavour failed so spectacularly.”

Standing, I tug the plan of the facility towards me. “That’s the problem Johan, we failed last time. Look at this,” grabbing a pen I mark of a set of corridors in red, “this whole area is still crawling with the same things that prevented us completing our mission last time. I know they’re still there, I saw them when...” my voice trails off as I remember my last visit to the Science Facility after Tess lopped off my head.  “I saw Craig when Charleston woke me up.”

Mentally shaking myself I force my tongue to proceed further. “Yes, the doors are chained shut and there are Strix guarding the exits but what do you think will happen if you put mortals down there? The scent of human flesh is going to drive those creatures wild. They’ll press against the doors and they won’t die in a crush, they’ll just keep pressing forward until they escape.

Yes, you’ll bring down the Senate. Those walking corpses will do it for you. They’ll kill or convert everyone in the Civic Centre, then Newcastle, then the U.K. They won’t stop at our borders. You’ll bring down the Senate and then humanity and the vampire nation as a whole will fall. For a time the streets will echo with screams and flow with blood and then eventually all that’ll be left will be decay and the groans of the starving dead.

Those of us who are Strix will live, starving because you’ll have destroyed our food source. Eventually we might figure out a way we can all decapitate ourselves just to escape the aftermath of the apocalypse. But I promise you one thing; if you send humans or even ordinary vampires into the Science Facility then there is no point in us even trying to defeat the Senate because you will destroy the world.”

Even as he scrutinises me I can see that Johan doubts me. “If what’s down there is such a threat then we need to destroy it before it escapes on its own.”

“You’re right,” my admission catches him off guard considering I’m opposing him. “We do need to do something about that risk but not by letting humans or vampires waltz into that hell. Not unless we want everyone to end up like Craig. The answer is right in front of you, Johan. Bring down the Senate, bring down everything else so that our enemies abandon their plans. Then once the way is clear let us sort out the zombie problem.”

“Us?” Johan asks, puzzled.

“Us Strix,” I expand. “We’re immune. We can walk into that facility and those creatures will sniff us once and turn away. We can go in and destroy them but no one else can. If you want that unnatural disaster contained you have to let those with my blood rectify the problem created by my sister’s blood.

Keep your army out of there and we’ll rectify the situation afterwards. I don’t care what excuse you give to Mr Cameron or anyone else you need to explain your tactics too but you need to do this my way.”

“Fine,” he concedes. Are people actually learning to listen? “And the rest of the Centre, what are your thoughts on that? Cameron wants to attack a week today. We all need this over with.”

Sighing bitterly I grudgingly rest my hand on a plan of the Civic Centre and once again I am simply a tool. It’s impossible not to shudder at the images which stream into my head. The sound of gunfire echoes in my ears as scenes of bloodshed play out before my closed eyes. Numerous futures rattle through my brain, competing for my attention until I fear I’ll never find the present for the determined assault of so many possibilities. There are too many possibilities to sort though. There are thousands of potential futures.

“I can’t help you.” Gritting my teeth at the admission I wish I had something else to say but I’m not orchestrating this operation and I don’t know which future Johan will guide us to. “This is a pivotal event but it’s not predetermined.”

Leaning back in his seat Johan’s expression is accusing. Does he think I’m holding back, lying to him to carry out some plan of my own concoction? “I need more than that,” he insists, folding his fingers together on the table in a gesture which tells me he’s preparing to wait me out. As if I can be waited out, there’s nothing to tell.

“Sometimes the future is set,” I explain, “you start at A and go to point B. The routes you take can often vary. Much like the getting from John O’Groats to Lands End you can chose the most direct series of roads or you can follow diversions, take other paths which may intersect or run parallel to the direct route but which ultimately mean you take slightly longer to reach B than you would otherwise have done. We’re people, not electricity; we don’t always follow the path of least resistance even when there is only one destination available to us.

At other times we come to a fork in the road. Hundreds of prongs can lead off to different futures and our actions determine which road we walk and therefore which future we end up meeting. Point B isn’t a certainty; you could go to point C, D, E, whatever. Those are pivotal moments in time when our personal decisions, or personal needs or vendettas can change the course of the future.

Sometimes it’s possible to see down each road and make decisions which ensure you walk the road you want to walk but at other times the way isn’t clear and there are too many external influences or there are simply too many futures to take in each one. In this case you’ll decide upon a plan and so you’ll pick hundreds futures out of thousands. The people you choose to lead teams into combat will then influence which of those hundreds of roads we actually walk down. That influence could be planned or it could be spur of the moment decisions made in the heat of battle.

I’m not orchestrating this and it’s too big for me to do so. With three people it’s easy to play God, to control the paths. Six people should be fine but it’ll take planning. Ten or twenty and I suspect it starts getting pretty tough. You’re talking about co-ordinating what, fifty Alliance members? A few hundred people locally, including those Cameron supplies? Thousands on a national scale? It would take me months to sort through all the possibilities, never mind pick the right one and decide how to control hundreds of vampires and hundreds of humans to get to the right outcome.
I can’t tell you what’s going to happen. I can tell you that there are futures where you succeed. I can tell you that there are futures where you will fail. I can’t tell you for certain which future you’ll lead us to. I know you stand a better chance if I’m there than if I’m not but if I’m there then I may die and the three of you aren’t willing to take that chance,” I point out casting my gaze over Johan, Rob and Tul.

“Right now I can’t promise a single person in this room that they’ll be alive next week because I genuinely don’t know. Tess killing me last time was inevitable. Tess killing me in a week’s time is a possibility just as me killing her is a possibility.
You can ask me a thousand times for a different answer but the only answer I can give you with any degree of certainty is that I can’t tell you which future will come to pass. There are too many people, to many variables.”

“Some seer.” The disdainful voice sneering at me belongs to one of our human cohort, a man we’d gained through the alliances Johan had forged in my absence. “I thought you were powerful, yet you can’t even tell us how to bring down one facility.”

Rob and Tul glare at the man and opposite me Alex tenses too. Even Robbie growls. Holding up my hand I prevent any of my allies from doing anything foolish. “Some seers only see the most likely future and when they get it wrong they’re deemed to be charlatans. I don’t make mistakes because I can see everything. I can see all of the past and every future. I see those possibilities which will come to pass and those which we may never see. I am indeed some seer and I’ve told you truthfully how it is.”

Glancing at Rob I add, “I can’t play God this time; this is out of my hands. I’m not allowed to narrow the field.”

The human laughs, “What a heap of shit.” He gestures, pointing at everyone around the table, “You might have this lot taken in by your endeavour to save face but I’m not fooled. If you’re so powerful you’re going to have to prove it.”

“You want a demonstration?” My question is tempered with incredulity and I can’t help shaking my head and the man. My irritation is not easily controlled at present and if he wants a display of my skills I’ll damn well give him one. Let him deal with the consequences.

“You’re proud of your great-grandfather aren’t you?” I ask him even though I already know he is. “Your father is an alcoholic and your grandfather was abusive so over the years you’ve been comforted by the notion that your great-grandfather was a hero who went to war and died in the battle of the Somme...”

The man guffaws, glaring at me, “That’s nothing, you could have found that out doing background checks on me.”

“Why would I be doing background checks on you?” My tone is dismissive, irked by the man. “I was dead when you arrived here and if I had been doing background checks on you then you wouldn’t be sat in this room now. But back to the point. You worship your great-grandfather because you want to believe that somewhere in your family history there was a good man. He was a good man. Tul knew him, actually.”
Feeling Tul’s surprise I add, “Private John Blacksmith.”

“He died?” There’s sorrow in Tul’s voice even though he’s old enough that every human he’d fought with will be dead by now. I guess it’s more difficult to accept that someone you knew died in battle, in the battle which nearly killed you, than to retain some hope that they died peacefully of old age.

“Sorry,” I offer, knowing it won’t help but needing to say it. Turning back to my dissenter I continue, “Here’s the thing though, John Blacksmith isn’t your biological great-grandfather. Your great-grandmother was having an affair with the green-grocer and your grandfather was only conceived two weeks after Private Blacksmith went to war. John and Florence hadn’t been intimate in months because he knew about the affair.

If you doubt me you can ask your father. That is, if you can drag him out of his pint glass. He has the letters from Mr James the grocer to Florence, even the ones informing her that he would not be helping her to care for any bastard as she’d never be able to prove the child was his. He even threatened to destroy her reputation.” Letting my eyes silver I force my voice to become cold, hard. “If that isn’t enough for you, then you can always ask me how I know about the vampire you helped to capture, torture and stake when Charleston first revealed our existence. You aren’t the only one to make such a mistake, true. You are the only one not to declare it on your application to join us though.”

The man blenches, his face turning a sickly shade of greenish white as the fragrance of fear permeates the room. Around the table vampire and humans turn to him in disbelief, in anger and in response his heart races at an almost dangerous rate. “I didn’t know!” He yelps, “I didn’t know you weren’t all like the Redeemers.”

“I know,” I answer simply, “and you were just following the commands of an imbecile with a grudge. You still hurt the Maggie though, she still screamed and wept and begged you not to stake her. You still celebrated when she died.”

Tears well in the man’s eyes in the second before he flings himself out of his seat and races from the room; the gesture doesn’t provoke any sense of sympathy from me. Silence follows his departure as the congregated security team members stare at me in concern and awe.

“You can see who we’ve killed?” Alex requests, his voice very soft, his eyes dark with guilt. I suppose as an ex-Enforcer he has a number of skeletons in his closet.

Taking my seat I exhale, deflating under Rob’s scrutiny as he considers the very same possibility Alex is asking me to confirm. “I can see who every one of us has killed, if I choose to. I choose not to look though. Almost everyone here has made mistakes and going looking for them is not among my preferred pastimes. I have enough mistakes of my own to dwell on without perusing through other peoples.”

Meeting Johan’s eye again I repeat. “Should I wish to I could see every mistake you’ve made and every death you’ve brought about, but I cannot tell you what next week will bring, no matter how many times you ask. I gave you an opportunity but now it’s in your hands.”