Jessamine... What—What happened to you?"
Jessamine raised her eyes to mine, her expression unreadable. "The same thing that happened to your hand," she answered softly. "Repeated a thousand times. Our venom is the only thing that leaves a scar."
I tried not to stare at the subtly ravaged skin on her neck and arm. But I couldn't seem to keep my eyes away as I fought not to think of the unimaginable brutality.
"Not all of us had the gentle upbringing of some of my siblings here," she said, her voice quiet, oddly detached. "You must understand...there are places in our world where the life of a newborn is measured in weeks, not centuries. Places where the instincts of our kind need have little restraint, and civility of any kind is unheard of. Places where—our kind is perpetually at war."
I was staring at her with rapt attention, waiting for her to continue. However, clearly the others had heard this story before. Carine and Eleanor turned their eyes back to the television, while Archie wandered off. Only Edythe remained attentive, though I could feel her eyes were not on Jessamine, but me, studying my reaction.
Jessamine's unblinking eyes never moving from mine, she began.
"Our kind has always fought, and that has been primarily for one thing: control of the most plentiful food sources. As your ancestors may have once fought for control of the best waters with the most fish or lands with the most game to hunt, our kind fights so they may have access to the most readily available prey. So they may hunt with less restraint and still go unnoticed."
I felt a shiver down my spine at the way Jessamine said it. Prey. Food sources. However, she wasn't worried about scaring the crap out of me or making me feel queasy, as Edythe would have been. She wasn't about to tone it down or gloss over the darker details.
"The south is a battleground," she said. "It has been for centuries. Violence is widespread—the covens there would not care to remain inconspicuous if not for the threat of Sulpicia and the Volturi. More than one coven who has gone too far has been utterly annihilated, and the others are aware the same could easily happen to them. They know when the Volturi intervenes, it is a massacre. Here in the north vampires tend to be, relatively speaking, civilized. They are nomads who wander from place to place, and even allow humans to interact with them unsuspectingly. However, in the south, vampires come out only at night, and humans are seen as no more than herds of cattle."
Slightly pale, I nodded slowly, absorbing that.
Jessamine continued, "At some point, someone realized that if he were the only vampire hunting in a particularly area, he could feed far more often without danger of attracting too much notice. So before long, they were all plotting to rid themselves of the competition. It is now a neverending game—moves and counter moves, a constant race to come up with new effective tactics and perfect them, then use them to maintain control of your land, or acquire new territory. Some came up with more effective tactics than others.
"However, the one tactic that stood out from all the rest, that drastically changed the way our wars were fought in the south, was invented by a fairly young vampire by the name of Belita. Her name first began to garner notice when rumors spread that she had massacred two covens that had been sharing the land near Houston. But it was only when she slaughtered a large, more powerful clan of allies who had held Monterrey in northern Mexico for half a decade that the others began to realize her strategy, whatever it was, was different from the others."
I shook my head, trying to fight chills going up and down my spine. "How?" I said quietly. "How did she do it?"
Jessamine's face held no emotion, and the lightly raised white scars on her neck and arms seemed unusually pronounced in the bright lamplight.
"She created an army of newborn vampires."
I sat there, digesting that. Before I could wrap my head around the potential for destruction, Jessamine continued.
"Newborns are very powerful. And even inexperienced, put ten or fifteen together, they can wipe out even the cleverest, most powerful covens by sheer numbers alone. However—they are also volatile, almost impossible to control, and slaves to their instincts. Though one alone may be reasoned with and taught to restrain himself, all together they were wild, unskilled and undisciplined. Many were always taken out in each conflict before victory was achieved, as they were nearly always predictable in a fight, and very often so out of control they would tear one another to pieces as soon as they would an enemy. Belita constantly had to continue to replenish the ranks she lost, with more new, volatile vampires, and so the chaos only increased.
"The other vampires in the south realized Belita would wipe them all out one by one if they did not act. The only way they saw to fight such a power was to turn Belita's own idea against her. And they soon created armies of their own."
Jessamine's hard features were grim. "All hell broke loose. The battles raged with increasing ferocity, the air choked with the purple smoke of destroyed immortals, the bodies of humans used to slake the newborns' unquenchable thirst stacked high—so many deaths that human historians took note, and later attributed the severe population slump to disease.
"When word reached the Volturi, Sulpicia intervened. She brought together the entire Volturi guard, and ordered that every newborn in the south and any vampire found in the company of a newborn be executed on sight.
"After first taking care of Belita, the Volturi spent nearly a year there, annihilating one coven after another. There are few witnesses left to the terror and brutality of that time. I spoke to someone once who had, from a distance, seen what had happened when the Volturi went to Culiacán..."
Throughout her story, Jessamine's face had mentioned impassive. But at this, I saw her give the barest shiver.
She continued, "But whatever the Volturi's methods, they were effective. Mexico was emptied of vampires for a time, and Belita's fever for conquest and reckless use of newborns did not spread from the south. The world remained at peace—thanks to the Volturi.
"However, when the Volturi at last returned to Europe, the few survivors quickly staked claims. Bad blood and resentment was widespread, and before long the covens were disputing again. The idea of using newborn armies was already established, and so many found themselves falling back on the familiar strategy. However, this time the southern covens were more careful—they selected from the human pool with more care, and were given more training. The humans took no notice, and Sulpicia did not send anyone again. And so the fighting resumed."
Jessamine paused there, and she stared thoughtfully off into space.
As I looked at her face, still composed, but with a touch of something in her eyes, I realized.
"That was when you were changed."
Jessamine's eyes flickered back to me. For the first time, the corners of her mouth turned up in the faintest hint of a smile, though there was no humor in it.
"Yes," she said softly.
Her eyes wandered away from mine then, and her gaze was far away. "It was the 1860s, and the Civil War had begun. We lived in Houston, Texas, and I was nearly seventeen years old when I watched my father and older brother join the Confederate Army.
"My brother was everything to me. He had always looked out for me from the time I was small, been the one I looked up to more than anyone in the world. I wanted to go with him, but he told me that some needed to remain behind as support. He did not expect the fight to be long, but he told me the army needed someone here, to take care of their land, keep the army supplied, and encourage more soldiers to enlist. However, worried that, with all the men gone, some ne'er-do-wells would take advantage of their absence, he did leave me a pistol, to keep concealed in a hidden pocket in my dress, so I could protect myself and my mother if we ever needed it.
"I took my brother's charge to heart. I had always found I had a gift for persuasion—in every public place I could find, I spoke strongly in support of our army, encouraging every able-bodied man to join the cause, knowing that the larger our army, the sooner the fighting would be over, and the sooner our men would come home. Blindly I repeated all the values we had grown up with. And, though it was really only loyalty to my brother and father that I truly knew, they listened to me."
Jessamine closed her eyes. "The war dragged on. We received word that Father had been killed in battle, and the tone of my brother's letters, which had at first been complacent, certain victory would come soon, turned increasingly hopeless. His reminders to keep the pistol with me at all times no longer had to do with the occasional lawless vagabond; instead he warned me of the Union armies, and what was done to the women of the towns that were captured. Because there were few men left to be convinced to enlist, I turned to helping galvanize the women—we helped supply the army with food, clothing, and horses, and we set up makeshift hospitals to treat the wounded. My brother wrote to me to say that the Union Army was going to the aid of the port town of Galveston, and his regiment would be evacuating its citizens—and they would be bringing the refugees to Houston. He would come and see Mother and I soon, after nearly three years since he had left.
"We waited. And waited, and waited—but though those who had escaped Galveston arrived, as did many of the soldiers of the Confederate Army who had helped in the effort, my brother was not among them. Mother, whose health had already deteriorated greatly after learning of the death of my father, was convinced he was dead, and in her despair fell ill. She passed within the week."
Jessamine's voice held little emotion as she spoke—as though she were reciting a passage from a history textbook. I remembered what Edythe had once said, about how her human memories were hazy, and I wondered if, for Jessamine, these things were all like memories from someone else's life, or if, just like she was able to affect the emotional atmosphere around her, she was somehow able to manipulate her own emotions, to make it less painful.
Jessamine continued evenly, "Having lost the only thing that had really been tying me to that place, I made up my mind. Perhaps my brother was indeed already dead, but I would not rest until I found out for certain. It may be that he was merely injured and could not get to us, or he had been captured.
"And so, the next morning after my mother's passing, I made up for myself a pack of rations and prepared a horse. Then, dressing in some of my brother's traveling clothes for my protection—a woman traveling alone was liable to draw attention—I set out.
"It was there, on my way toward Galveston to find my brother, that I met them."
Jessamine paused. Something in her eyes seemed to harden, and I felt myself tense.
"I had stopped beside a small stream to rest for the night, and to let the horse feed and drink. He was old, and could not be pushed very hard—all the fittest horses had been taken for the fighting. There I sat down beside a tree to try to sleep a few hours—and try not to let my growing despair overtake me.
"I didn't hear them approach. Not so much as the rustle of grass, or the tramp of a hoofbeat. I closed my eyes for what felt like barely a moment—and when I opened them again, there they were.
"Three men stood not a few feet away, beside the stream, watching me. I was immediately struck by how beautiful they were—If I had ever pictured Michael the Archangel, then surely one of these would have been who I imagined. As I looked closer, I saw they were not men after all, but boys. They seemed oddly young to be traveling alone, no older than I, and one with dark hair and almost Mexican features, though his skin was pale as the other two, was no more than a child.
"It was the tallest of the three, a man with fair hair like golden straw, who was the first to speak.
"'It seems fortune is with us. This one's alone. We can have her without anyone interfering.'
"He eyed me with hunger, and the look sent chills down my spine. I had thought at first that these might be refugees, stragglers who had not made it fully away from Galveston—but now instead I thought of the lawless wanderers my brother had spoken of. I climbed slowly to my feet, and my hand went to the pistol concealed in my traveling cloak.
"'But she's just one,' said the other tall one. His hair was even lighter than the other, almost white. 'How will we decide who should get her?'
"The boy, who I thought could have been no more than twelve or thirteen, had been watching me silently. And though I could not imagine how he could possibly present the same kind of danger to me as the other two, somehow, the look in his eyes frightened me the most of all.
"'No, Nest,' he murmured, and his child's voice was smooth as satin. 'I think I want to try to keep this one.'
"The young man—Nest—scoffed in return. 'A young girl? I thought you said you wanted to take officers, Miguel. We should select our candidates carefully, you said.'
"'I have a feeling about this one,' said the boy softly, and he eyed me with a greed that surpassed that of the other two.
"The others appeared disappointed, but to my surprise, both stepped back obediently—as though the boy were the one in charge.
"'You do it then,' said Nest. 'You know I kill them as often as I keep them.'
"The boy smiled softly, and took a step toward me. I looked back into his face—of the three, he ought to have seemed the least threatening.
He was by far the most beautiful of the three, his face almost angelic. But beneath the surface I saw a vile, sinister intent. I remembered that Lucifer had once been an angel, more beautiful than the rest—and I wondered if I might not be looking into the eyes of the devil himself now.
"At last, I drew my pistol. I don't remember now what all I said—I threatened them to stay back or I would shoot, told them that the Confederate Army knew where I was, that my brother was a high-ranking officer, and the three of them would be executed on sight if they so much as touched me. I used every bit of power of persuasion I possessed—but the boy only laughed, and kept right on coming."
Jessamine paused once again, her even expression almost thoughtful. "I...sometimes have wondered," she murmured, almost to herself. "If that moment, in some way, helped prepare me for what was to come—that my very last act as a human was an act of violence.
"I waited until the boy was close enough I couldn't possibly miss, and then I fired, straight into his heart. I was close enough I saw the shot hit him, right where I had aimed. But of course, he did not react. His smile only widened, and the next moment he was in front of me.
"In the relative quiet after the explosion, he said to me softly, 'What is your name, girl?'
"Knowing I was about to die, or something worse than death for a young woman of my time, I answered, almost defiantly, 'Jessamine Whitlock.'
"The boy signaled to the others, and without a word, the two men retreated from me, turning and leaving, racing like the wind over the countryside until they were out of sight.
"'Well, Jessamine,' said the boy, 'my name is Miguel, and I am about to free you from that pitiful human body—if you are lucky enough to survive. I hope you are. We could use someone with your spirit. And I find something...unspeakably compelling about you.'
"Then he reached up and touched me, his skin cold as ice. And though he appeared too young for such things, he inclined his head as though to kiss me—"
Jessamine paused. Again, her eyes were far away. When she began again, I was relieved when she said, "...A few days later, I was introduced to my new life. My new world.
"Their names were Miguel, Nestor, and Lyle. They hadn't been together all that long, Miguel had simply brought the other two together as a matter of convenience. They were all survivors of recently lost battles, and Miguel sought vengeance on those who had beaten him, and he wished to reclaim his hunting territories. He was intent on building an army, but he was going about it very carefully—selecting specific humans who had potential. Mostly ranked military officers with combat experience in their human lives. I was the one exception.
"However, Miguel trained me to fight just as he did the others—it was an alien world compared to the one I had left, where the mere thought of a woman fighting was a disgrace. There were six other newcomers when I joined, and Miguel created four more within a fortnight. He put far more effort into training us than any of the others did, making certain we knew how to remain invisible to the humans. When we did well, we were rewarded."
Jessamine paused again, and didn't go into details.
"Nestor and Lyle didn't expect much of me. Because I was the smallest and a female, at first I was a target to the other newborns—there was no such thing as gentlemen chivalry here. Perhaps it was simply out of desperation, or perhaps I'd simply had an aptitude for it all along—but I soon discovered that fighting was something that seemed to come naturally to me. Every time one of them came at me, I destroyed him without mercy. Miguel was a little vexed, as he was forced to replace many of his newborns on my account, but he was pleased with my unexpected skill. He rewarded me far more often than the others, and I grew stronger.
"It wasn't long before he set me as his second in command. I had always been a leader of sorts in my former life, able to influence others, and I also discovered I seemed to have a mysterious power to manipulate the emotional atmosphere around me, though at that time I had not yet put a clearly defined name to it. I was able to use that power to keep the normally volatile newborns relatively calm and under control. The in-fighting dropped almost immediately, and our numbers swelled to around twenty—an unimaginably high number, with the hovering threat of the Volturi destroying anyone whose activities grew too conspicuous. Even Miguel, Nestor, and Lyle, who had not always gotten along particularly well, seemed to work together more easily.
"I followed every one of Miguel's orders without question, just as I had blindly followed the values taught to me in my human life. He was my entire world—if I could have looked back on the life I only vaguely remembered, to some of the words my brother had once spoken to me as he tried to explain to me the feelings of loyalty for his country and fellow soldiers that made him willing to die for them, I now would have understood his feelings exactly. I lived to carry out Miguel's commands. This life of perpetual war was all I knew, and I never imagined any other way of life could exist.
"I drilled the others relentlessly, punished them or even destroyed them when they stepped out of line. Miguel began to rely on me more and more, until before long he was leaving the training of all the newborns to me. I was often left in charge. I eventually was able to pull together an army of twenty-three—tremendously strong newborn vampires, organized and skilled as none who had come before. Miguel could not have been more thrilled.
"We moved swiftly and silently down to Monterrey, Miguel's former territory. There, there were two older vampires, and they had nine newborns, all fresh and green. We crushed them, losing only four of our own—an unheard of margin of victory. And more importantly, we did it quietly, secretly, so the humans never even noticed.
"But Miguel's ambitions were broader than just one city. Before long, he began setting his sights on other territories, other challenges. That year, he extended his control to cover most of Texas and northern Mexico. But it couldn't last—before long, others came from the South to depose him."
Jessamine once again raised a hand to lightly brush the faint scars on her neck.
"The fighting was...unbelievably intense. Brutal. Many feared we would bring the Volturi back down on us. Of the original twenty-three newborns, I alone survived the first eighteen months. Though we had many victories, we suffered many defeats as well. Eventually Nestor and Lyle turned on Miguel—but I felt the moment their loyalties shifted, and he and I annihilated them with absurd ease.
"Miguel and I continued to hold Monterrey. Things quieted down, though the battles never fully ceased. The appeal of universal conquest had dimmed somewhat for most, and now the fights were mainly about settling old scores. Many vampires had lost their partners in the fighting, and now sought vengeance, as that is the one thing our kind does not forgive...
"Miguel and I always kept a dozen or so newborns ready. They were no more than disposable pawns, to be used strategically, then discarded when they became a threat or outlived their usefulness. My life was an endless cycle of violence. On the outside I showed no sign of weakness, but little by little I began to grow sickened by what I saw, day in, day out. But it never occurred to me that there may be another way of life, and I never thought of leaving.
"For decades Miguel and I fought the others, holding our territories, building our armies of newborns, then purging when they weakened beyond use, then building again. Though I had known little of the ways of war from my human life, being partner to Miguel taught me much. Miguel was by far the most gifted strategist in all the warring covens of the South, and he explained to me his methods that brought him victory until I knew them and could employ them as well as he.
"Time passed, and Miguel became less choosy about the newborns he selected—he chose female as well as male, considering how well I had turned out, and because he knew I could train just about anyone to be a superb fighter. One of the newborns, a girl who had, against all the odds, survived and remained useful through her first three years, piqued my interest, and we became something very much like friends.
"Patricia was her name, and she was different from the others. In spite of the fact that she was a very good, very clever fighter, she didn't seem to enjoy it. She was calm, unfailingly good-natured even toward the newest of the vampires, who were usually targets, tormented and bullied relentlessly by the others until more new vampires came along to replace them. I realized I respected that a great deal. In this world of constant violence and tenuous bonds, she was like a breath of fresh air.
"I assigned her the job of dealing with the newborns—you might say she was a glorified babysitter. It took all her time and energy, but she performed the task well, with more patience than any of the others. I think the lives of the newborns were less hellish under her care.
"Then the time came for another purge—the newborns' strength was waning, and it was time to replace them. Patricia was assigned to help me dispose of them—we always took them aside, one by one...always, purging nights were very long. This time, Patricia spoke to me, tried to convince me that a few of them had potential, and we ought to keep them longer. She pleaded with me. However, my orders from Miguel were clear, and I told her we would not spare any of them.
"I could feel as the work took its toll on Patricia. I thought perhaps I ought to send her away—I had done this many times before, and I didn't really need her help. However, as I called the name of the next newborn, I felt her emotions suddenly alter—she was furious, combative, and I waited for her to attack. I was not afraid of her—good a fighter as she was, she was no match for me.
"The newborn I had called arrived—Charles was just past his year mark, and the moment Patricia saw him, I knew. No feeling was every invisible to me. She shouted at him to run, and she took off after him. I tensed myself to pursue—I knew I could easily catch them both and destroy them—but something held me in place. I'd destroyed many, but destroying Patricia...it was an unpleasant thought.
"Miguel was irritated with me later, but he let it go—and strangely, I didn't regret my failure to act.
"I grew increasingly despondent. I continued to carry out the methods we had developed, the endless violence, but I was sickened by it. Miguel began to notice the change—and his pleasure with me and affection toward me began to to turn to suspicion and fear. I sometimes sensed the malice in his emotions, the same emotions that had given me advance warning before Nestor and Lyle had turned on us. I knew I would have to destroy him soon—my only ally—or be destroyed myself. And so I mentally prepared myself, waited for the right moment...
"It was at that time Patricia returned, almost five years after her escape. She met with me in secret, and she told me about the North—how neither she nor Charles had fought even once since they had gone, though they had met other vampires. They all co-existed without fear, without violence. To my weary, blood-soaked mind, it sounded like paradise—I had never thought there might be anything else than this life I lived, and now that I knew, I was eager for a change.
"And so, that very night, I fled with Patricia, leaving Miguel to continue to fight his battles and wage the wars he lived for. Once I was gone, I realized I did not miss him. Though I was relieved I hadn't been forced to kill him after all, and we had been together for so many years, we had both lived for the fight, for the blood, and our bond was not strong enough to hold us together. The strong loyalty I had felt in the beginning had deteriorated to nothing.
"I traveled with Patricia and Charles for a time. At first, I was almost happy—glad to be living in this new, peaceful world. But soon my depression returned, as strong as it had been before. I realized that, for a long time, something had been eating at me. Consuming me from the inside out. But I hadn't noticed it amidst the constant struggle for survival and violence.
"You know I have the power to control and manipulate emotions—but I can also sense the emotions of those around me, and I wonder if you realize how that affects me. I had lived in a world of neverending slaughter and carnage—as often the cause of it myself as the witness. For the first century of my life, I was constantly immersed in hatred and vengeance. But even in the midst of that, I realized something. Every time I took a human victim to sate my thirst, a faint prick of remembrance from my other life—the faded life, the life did not really feel like my own—would come back to me. The human girl who idolized her brother. The fear she had felt seeing the monsters that would alter her life forever.
"I think that's why the memories of how that human girl felt never fully left me. Because every time I hunted, every time I killed a newborn or another vampire, I could feel everything my prey was feeling. As a human died by my hands, I lived their emotions again. The horror, the fear. Every single time.
"And so, I left Patricia and Charles. I was growing increasingly averse to our most basic act of survival—hunting humans. But they did not feel the same way I did, they merely wished for peace from the endless fighting of our kind. I was weary—weary of killing, weary of living.
"But though I began to try to resist, consuming the blood of humans less and less often, still I could not keep myself from it for long. I had spent a century drinking human blood as I would, and the control I desired did not come easily. I held myself back, only to give in, and give in, and give in..."
Jessamine's eyes were unfocused, her mind decades away. Her stoic expression had turned dead...hopeless. But then, to my surprise, she suddenly smiled gently, like the sun breaking between the clouds on a stormy day.
"After endless wandering, not sure where I was going, or if there was anywhere to go, I ended up in Philadelphia. That day the sky was overcast and dark with a coming storm, so I had opted to be out during the day, even though my decades of nothing but night activity still left me feeling a bit nervous.
"When it began to rain, I knew staying outdoors in such weather would attract attention, so I ducked into a small diner, with only a few patrons. My eyes wouldn't attract attention—they were dark with thirst, as they often were, as I'd been pushing myself between meals longer and longer. I was continually testing my self control, though in truth, I still did not fully trust myself.
"Because of the rain, I had not smelled him from the outside, but as soon as I entered, I realized there was one of our kind there. He was sitting at the bar counter, arms folded, relaxed.
"Normally, I would not have felt any reason to be wary. Unlike the South, vampires of the North generally made an effort to get along. However, the moment I came through the door, the other vampire stood, and he looked right at me, as though he had been expecting me. When he approached, I tensed, instinctively ready for a fight—
"But he only smiled, and I thought to myself I didn't think I'd ever seen an expression so pure, so radiant. And his emotions I felt—I could not make sense of them. They were so foreign, unlike anything I had ever felt, and I could feel that they were directed toward me.
"'Hey,' he said. 'You southern belles really like to keep a guy waiting.' Then he laughed, and it was a clear, pure sound. 'But that's okay. It was worth the wait.' Then he stretched out his hand for me to take.
"There were many questions I probably should have asked. Who was he? Why was he waiting for me there? What did he want? But, I didn't ask him a single thing. I felt his emotions, and after a century of violence and betrayal I immediately trusted him. And so I took his hand, and followed him, and I never once looked back."
I blinked, and noticed Archie was there, and he reached out and took Jessamine's hand. His ocher eyes were warm and liquid as honey.
"You know, there was a bit there you really had me freaked out," he commented. "I didn't know if you were ever going to show up—but, maybe I was just a bit impatient."
Jessamine turned, and smiled up at him, and I noticed a few of the faint white scars along her jaw and the side of her face stretch. Her eyes were warm and gentle as his.
"Then," Jessamine continued, "he told me what he had seen in his visions. About Carine, and her coven of vampires who did not hunt humans. So we left to find them."
The corner of her lip twitched in amusement. "I think we might have scared them a little."
"A little," scoffed Eleanor. "You two totally freaked them all out. Course, Edythe and I were away hunting and missed all the fun—but this freaky, scarred-up quiet girl and a little shrimp who starts giving everybody bro-hugs and calls everybody by name shows up out of nowhere, all ready to move right in."
Archie sighed contentedly at the memory. "Good times."
"Yes," Edythe put in. "And as I seem to recall, I came back to find my room had been taken over by fifties rock paraphernalia, and all my things dumped unceremoniously in the garage."
Archie shrugged. "Your room had the best view. I knew, being the kind, generous person you are, you would want me to have it."
Edythe nodded. "Actually, the way I remember it, I wanted to kill you. I might have, if Jessamine hadn't known what I was feeling and followed you around like a bodyguard. That annoying habit of finishing sentences alone almost sent me over the edge."
Archie flashed a grin. "Come on. Everyone knows I'm your favorite brother."
Edythe smiled a little. "When I realized there was no getting rid of you, you did eventually grow on me. After a few decades."
Everyone laughed. However, the light moment of fond memories couldn't last, and Archie's smile turned to a frown, his expression serious. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply.
"An army," he muttered. "Wow. You should have mentioned something about this earlier."
Jessamine shook her head. "I believed I must be mistaken. When an army is created, there is always a reason for it. But there is no history in Seattle, no vendetta, and it is not particularly desirable as a feeding ground. The occasional nomad passes through, but there would be nothing to gain from an army. And yet..."
Jessamine's eyes were hard and certain. "I recognize the signs, and there can be no other explanation. Someone has created a newborn army in Seattle. I would judge fewer than twenty, but certainly no less than ten. But the most dangerous part is that they are clearly completely untrained. Whoever created them simply unleashed them on the city. Normally Sulpicia would have taken action long before now—but that doesn't seem to be a possibility right now, if what Archie said about Sulpicia's distraction is correct."
Carine spoke quietly, bleakly. "What do you suggest?"
Jessamine's expression was set in stone. "We will have to destroy them. If this is allowed to go on, it risks exposure for all of us."
"Jessamine is right," Edythe said quietly. "And here's something to consider—this may not technically be our responsibility, and Sulpicia may not like vigilantes, but if we leave this until too long and it gets too far out of control—when Sulpicia takes care of whatever it is and she does send someone, the cleaning up is going to be a lot more extreme. I wouldn't put it past Sulpicia to induce a natural disaster or something else equally destructive to cover up the truth. We have to take care of this now before it has a chance to really spiral out of control."
"An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure," Carine murmured.
I stared at Edythe, wondering if she really believed that about Sulpicia. If that could really happen.
"Yes," Jessamine said quietly. "That is something to think about. I agree...if this goes on, that may very well be the outcome." She breathed deeply. "I can teach you how to fight them. It won't be easy in the city—clearly the young ones aren't concerned with secrecy, so we will be limited in ways they are not. But, perhaps if we can lure them out..."
She trailed off, and they were all silent for a moment, considering.
Edythe was staring at the far wall, her brow furrowed in concentration. However, her eyes suddenly widened. She had gone rigid where she stood.
The others noticed immediately, and gazes turned slowly to her.
"Edythe?" Carine said quietly.
Edythe gripped the back of the couch. "Jessamine," she said in a low, urgent voice. "Has it occurred to you...The only reason for creating a newborn army is to defeat another newborn army, or to defeat a larger, more powerful coven. And the only large coven anywhere near here is..."
Jessamine stared back at her, her expression was impossible to read. "Are you saying..." she said slowly.
Edythe's voice was barely above a whisper. "Yes. I think the target has to be us."
"That can't be," Earnest put in. "Surely there are other possibilities... Tanvir's family is not so far away..."
"We're a large coven of strong fighters," Edythe said. "We claim the lands here. We're the only target anywhere near here that makes sense."
Jessamine's brow furrowed slightly. "This spot affords no particular strategic advantage. It's certainly not a good hunting ground by any means. And ours is not an aggressive coven, so I can't see anyone feeling threatened by us."
"Hold on," said Archie. "They can't be coming after us, because I would have seen that." He paused. "Unless..." He frowned, thinking. "Maybe they just don't know they are. Not yet anyway." Archie closed his fist and rapped it against the side of his head, as though trying to dislodge something that was stuck.
"What is that?" Edythe asked, tense. "I can't make sense of those images."
Archie shook his head and slumped, giving up. "Neither can I, that's the problem. I keep getting these flashes, nothing concrete. Like someone is changing their mind so fast I can't get a clear view."
"Indecision?" Carine murmured, frowning.
Jessamine's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "No," she said quietly, almost to herself. "I have trouble believing that whoever is doing this struggles with indecisiveness. If we are truly the target, this enemy must have some plan of attack."
Edythe nodded. "I agree. So, there is only one other explanation—whoever it is, they have knowledge of exactly how Archie's power works, and they have been using that to slip through the holes in his sight."
Archie shook his head. "But who in the heck would know that?"
Edythe hesitated. Her eyes flickered to Carine, then back to the rest. She drew a short breath. "I hate to be the one to say this, but...the only vampire outside the ones standing here who has intimate knowledge of exactly how Archie's power works is Sulpicia."
Eleanor scoffed. "What possible reason would Sulpicia have to try to get someone to attack our coven? Isn't she supposed to be busy dealing with some other fiasco in Europe?"
Carine said quietly, "Sulpicia's ways may seem harsh at times, but she would never attack us for no reason."
Edythe glanced at Carine again, then her eyes shifted. She stared at the ground as she spoke. "Sulpicia...has a mind unlike any vampire I have ever met. She's at once compassionate, just...and also unflinchingly, brutally ruthless."
Edythe slowly raised her eyes back to the room, and her face was hard. "Sulpicia saw the potential use of powers such as Archie's and mine—particularly Archie's. She tried not to think about it, but I saw flickers of half-formed plans—ways that she might drive us to her, should she ever come across a situation where our skills might be necessary."
Edythe glanced briefly at me, then looked away again quickly.
Carine's expression was calm, but I could see flickers of pain beneath the surface. "You really believe Sulpicia could be behind this? The newborns, the chaos in Seattle..."
Edythe's expression was composed. "I don't know. But Sulpicia has gone to elaborate, cruel measures to accomplish her goals in the past, and now that she doesn't have her thief to just take abilities she needs, she might be desperate. Whatever it is going on in Europe, it could be she wants Archie's help—and his permanent allegiance."
I stared at Edythe. She had never before told me this. For a moment, I pictured Archie dressed in a long dark cloak, his eyes glowing a deep crimson in the dark shadow of his hood. I felt a shiver down my spine.
Archie was shaking his head. "No, if Sulpicia was involved, I'd know. Even if she's gotten someone else to take care of the details, I'd have seen that."
"Well, nothing's going to happen if we stand around here all day debating about it!" Eleanor cut in, exasperated. She pummeled a fist in her hand.
Everyone was silent for a long moment.
At last, Edythe folded her arms. "Eleanor's right," she said in a low voice. "We may not have a grasp on what's really going on and why, but we have to act—and soon."
Carine sighed very deeply, touching a hand to her head as if it suddenly hurt her. "Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, I agree, there's no choice." She raised her eyes to Jessamine. "You'll have to teach us how to destroy them."
For some reason, as I listened to this war council, something pricked me at the back of my mind. I felt cold, numb with horror, and yet beneath that a hazy thought was floating just out of reach. I felt like there was something that we were missing, that would make sense out of the chaos.
"We are going to need help," Jessamine said. She was sitting tall and straight on the couch, in a way I had never seen her sit before. Jessamine had always seemed like the quiet one, the one who faded to the background—but in the firm set of her mouth and her authoritative voice I saw the vampire who had been second-in-command of one of the most fearsome and powerful southern newborn armies, the vampire who had accumulated those battle scars.
She continued, "If this army is as large as I think it is, fighting alone we will be putting ourselves at risk. But we have allies. If you could persuade Tanvir to come to our aid...well, another five mature vampires would be a great addition to our ranks. And with the abilities of Kirill and Elena...the battle could very well be almost too easy."
Carine nodded slowly. "I will ask. And I will do everything in my power to communicate the desperation of our current plight."
I didn't think I'd ever seen Carine look so shaken. I wondered if it was the prospect of fighting newborns and risking losing some of her family, being forced to kill the newborns, or the possibility Sulpicia—an old friend—might be the one behind it. Maybe it was all three.
Jessamine had produced a cellphone and she held it out to Carine. It took Carine a moment to notice it.
"We need to hurry," Jessamine said evenly, and though her features were, on the surface, calm, I saw tension again in the set of her mouth.
Carine drew in a shaky breath. "Of course." She took the phone and got up, going to the windows. She stood with her back to us, gazing at the murky forest outside. The pale light caused Carine's form to cast a long shadow across the floor.
Edythe took my hand and we waited.
Carine spoke into the phone in a low, rapid voice, which I had trouble following as she outlined the gist of our predicament.
However, she suddenly cut off, and she stood where she was a moment, frozen.
I heard Edythe curse softly beside me, and felt her hand grip mine.
At last Carine said in a quiet, almost faint voice, "No...I'm sorry. We had no idea."
Silence for a moment. Then Carine said something else very rapidly, too low for me to hear. Her tone was persuasive, almost pleading.
I looked between Edythe and Carine, trying to figure out what was going on. Edythe's normally pale skin was white, and I saw her clench her teeth. There was silence again as Carine listened.
"No," she said at last. "No, I'm afraid we simply can't agree to that. We have given our word, and we will not break it." She was quiet again and when she spoke again, her bleak voice had just a bit of an edge to it. "Yes. If that is your decision, then I see we are at an impasse. We will simply have to do our best alone."
She shut the phone without waiting for an answer. Her eyes didn't move from the fog outside.
"What?" I said, looking down at Edythe. "What happened?"
Eleanor and Jessamine looked to Edythe for answers too.
Edythe's face was dark with fury.
"Lauren," she spat. "Even dead she's a thorn in our side. We should have torn her to bits the moment Joss declared an attack on us—no, I should have sent her to the pit of hell myself."
I blinked, startled at Edythe's vehemence.
Of course, I wouldn't be forgetting Lauren anytime soon. Hers was a face that still occasionally crept up in my nightmares. She had been a member of Joss's coven, but declared she didn't want to have any part of it when Joss had targeted me. Instead, she'd gone north to Alaska to visit Tanvir and his family—the closest thing the Cullens had to friends in the vampire world. However, a few months back Lauren had slunk back to Forks, as a favor to her old friend Victor, to scout the place out for his planned vengeance. She'd run straight into me, and would have had me for a light snack if Jules and the rest of the pack hadn't ripped her to shreds.
"They're mad about Lauren?" said Eleanor, frowning. "She was only staying with them, what...a year?"
Edythe ground her teeth. "Apparently, Ivan got himself a bit entangled with her. So naturally, he wants revenge."
"So, in other words..." I said slowly.
Edythe glared at the far wall. "They'll help us, all right—if we agree to sit back and let them take down the ones who killed Lauren."
I froze where I was, stunned.
"They want the wolves," I whispered. I didn't know what to say. I felt my heart pounding like a hammer in my chest, and my lungs didn't seem to want to work properly.
My panicked eyes studied Edythe's expression. Her eyes flashed, her mouth was twisted.
"Lauren," she seethed with disgust. "Imagine going to the trouble of vengeance for someone like her—I'd spit on her grave if she had one. If there was one thing in the world that could induce me to kiss those wolves, it was putting that two-faced pawn of Joss and Victor's out of her misery."
Eleanor grinned. "You should say that in front of Ivan. I'd love to see you have an excuse to bash his face in next time we see him."
"I will definitely consider it," Edythe said in a hard voice.
Carine sighed, finally turning away from the window. "Ivan is...in pain," she said quietly. "I imagine he isn't quite rational at the moment."
"All the more reason to knock some sense into him," Eleanor muttered.
I noticed Jessamine was still sitting on the couch, in the same straight-backed posture.
"Either way," Jessamine said, very quietly, "this is a serious blow for us. The playing field is simply too even—we vastly have the upper hand in skill and experience, but we will be outnumbered, perhaps two to one, maybe more. I have no doubt we would emerge victorious in the end, but...there would almost certainly be a cost."
The room was silent. I felt as though something cold had dropped into my stomach, and as I lifted my eyes, my gaze went slowly from one face to the next. Jessamine, Archie, Eleanor, Royal, Earnest, Carine...Edythe.
They would fight, and they would win. But not all of my family would make it back alive.