“Yeah,” Kevin said. “She wouldn’t have an army of mindless weapons. She would only have the blue officers and the Sons of Erebus Warriors, and how many of them would stay faithful to her and fight for her if they realized Nyx didn’t bless this war?”
“She would lose power, but perhaps not enough to stop the war,” Dragon said thoughtfully. “She has been careful to only put Warriors in key positions of power who seek more—more land, more riches, more of everything.”
“But at least we’d have a fighting chance then,” Kevin insisted. “Dragon, I saw what happens when red vampyres and fledglings have their humanity restored, and I promise you, none of them will ever fight again.”
“Where are they, these other changed red vampyres and fledglings?” Dragon asked.
“Still in the other world. Zoey would have had to force them to come back here, and she refused to do that. It was a terrible shock when they returned to themselves and realized what they had done. Several of them committed suicide before we could stop them.”
“And how about you? Why weren’t you devastated and suicidal?” the Swordmaster asked.
“Because I was different from the moment I was Marked. I held on to more of my humanity than anyone knew, and because of that I made sure that I didn’t—”
Suddenly from outside the cave came the warning cries of a raven, immediately followed by a flurry of activity. The bird flew frantically to Anastasia as Erik Night rushed to Dragon.
“Danger! Danger! Danger!” the raven shrieked as he landed on Anastasia’s shoulder.
“Tina’s lit a warning fire!” Erik told Dragon.
Kevin was too busy staring at the raven and wondering if normal ravens could actually speak or if this one was magickal, when Dragon whirled around, staring at him.
“You traitorous little bastard!” Dragon hurled the words at Kevin.
“No! It’s not me! It couldn’t be me. I—I didn’t even go to the barracks yesterday. I went straight to Grandma Redbird’s farm when I got back.”
Another blue vampyre rushed into the cave. Between panting breaths, he announced, “Soldiers of the Red Army are coming up the ridge!”
Dragon Lankford strode to Kevin and grabbed his arm in a viselike grip, lifting him to his feet and dragging him to the mouth of the cave.
“Before I kill you, you’re going to tell me how many soldiers you led here!”
7
Other Stark
“Lieutenant Dallas, explain to me again why the hell we’re out here in the middle of nowhere on a cold-ass winter’s night when I could be in my quarters with a roaring fire, worshipping my current priestess flavor of the month?”
The slight young vampyre rushed up to Stark. His adult blue Mark looked like lightning bolts, which made sense because of his weird affinity for electricity, but Stark thought it looked ridiculous on his ferret-like face.
“Well, General, like I told Artus, today our security sweeps were in Sapulpa and Sand Springs. At the Reasor’s grocery at the corner of Taft and Hickory here in Sapulpa, the manager reported that he was sure he saw Erik Night in a group of blue vamps who were lurking around the parking lot.”
“Well, Night did join the Resistance a few months ago, but why are we here if he was spotted in town?”
“’Cause I did some digging with a lieutenant of the Red Army, and he was able to encourage,” Dallas enunciated the word with malicious glee, “some of the locals to admit that they’ve been noticin’ strange lights and such comin’ from this here ridge. Most of the local yokels think it’s haunted—talked some nonsense about it belonging to the Creek Tribe for generations. Said the ghosts even chased oil drillers out in the early nineteen hundreds, but I don’t believe that crap.” They were standing on the side of a road named Lone Star that meandered along the ridge. Dallas pointed at eight strands of thick wire that seemed to frame the entire wild acreage that made up the area called Polecat Ridge. “So, I poked around and found this.”
“A fence? There’s farmland all over here that’s fenced in. Why is this an issue?” Stark said.
“’Cause this isn’t farmland. The ridge has gone wild. No one’s done anything with it since early last century. So why’s it protected by high-voltage wire?”
“That’s hot?” Stark took a step closer to the wire and did pick up a faint hum and something that felt different in the air.
“Very. I tried to talk to the old woman who owns the ridge, but she wasn’t very helpful—and she’s protected by Neferet’s directive because she also owns the best alfalfa fields in the entire state—so I couldn’t be as persuasive as I wanted to be.”
“She had to give you an answer, though.”
“Yes, sir. And she did. She told me that she breeds a special kind of deer—one that Neferet also loves.”
“White-tail deer.” Stark nodded. “Neferet likes venison. A lot. I didn’t realize this was her supplier.”
“Yeah, it’s that same old Tina woman who owns this ridge and the fields all around here. Anyway, she said she breeds special deer and lets ’em roam free on the ridge because they’re healthier that way, so their meat is better. That’s why she ran high-voltage wire all around her property—to keep the deer in and as many predators out as possible.”
“I guess that makes sense. Did you ask her about activity on her ridge?”
“Yes, sir. Got nothing from her. She said it’s quiet out here, which is why she lives here, away from people. She also said she polices her own ridge, keeping poachers out, and that she doesn’t need or want our help. Then she shut her gate in my face.”
“Not surprising,” Stark muttered. And it wasn’t. Since Neferet’s war humans had suffered. Not that he was overly concerned with humans. The only thing Stark was overly concerned with was his own skin—life was easier that way—especially these days. But humans hiding behind closed doors and showing nothing but fear and/or loathing for vampyres didn’t help the fight against the damnable, pain-in-the-ass Resistance.
“So, when I reported everything to Artus he said the ridge needed to be checked out—and that’s why we’re out here.”
“All right, well, did the old woman turn off the juice to that fence?” Stark asked, keeping a healthy distance from the thick wires.
“No, but we don’t need her to do that. I can get us in there with no problemo.”
“Well, get it done,” said Stark.
He turned from Dallas to motion to the first of the five Humvees parked behind his lead vehicle. The driver obeyed immediately, and red vampyre soldiers and their officers in charge began unloading. Stark made a hold motion, which was passed down the line, but he needn’t have had the soldiers pause. Dallas had gone to the fence and pressed his hand to the post closest to him. The young vampyre’s eyes were closed, and the expression on his face almost looked like he was experiencing pleasure—which wouldn’t have surprised Stark. He’d always thought Dallas was a strange one.