Super Genetics

Terry reeled back, silent as he tried to process that realization.

His father’s revenant?

Everything snapped into sharp focus, all the revelations from the past few hours coalescing into something that finally made sense.

His mother had died and his father had been the only one present. He’d been forced to bring her back. Of course he had.

He remembered back to the footage of Sol’s attack, of his father’s brief fight with the Siren. That look of confusion, then raw anger as she tried to distort his aura. She had been disrupting his connection to his revenant—disrupting the very thing that kept his wife alive.

His father’s words flashed in his mind.

She was trying to rip something away from me, the only thing I’d ever wanted.

At the time, his father had played it off, claiming he was afraid to lose his summons, Skol and Hati. Terry now realized that had been a deflection—it had been his mother he had been afraid to lose. The choice his father had been forced to make was to kill the Siren right then and there…or let Terry’s mother die for good.

“You all knew,” he breathed. “Everyone knew but me…”

“Not all of us,” his grandfather replied. Terry’s head snapped up. “She took James’ memories, too. Shoved them into one of her roses.” He snorted. “No, only you and your father were in the dark, and I let her have her little fantasy. Her perfect little family.”

Terry felt the heat rise to his face, his fists clenching. His aura had recovered after the Emperor’s defensive blast and he felt it shifting almost of its own accord.

Before it could coalesce, Whipvine was between the two of them. He turned toward the Emperor.

“Enough, Terrence. Stop antagonizing the boy.”

Terry faltered in surprise, his aura stilling at the revenant’s casual familiarity. His grandfather regarded Whipvine with a frown, then let out a heavy breath.

Mesmer stepped forward, finally breaking the silence.

“I’m sorry you had to find out the way you have, Terry. This isn’t how your mother would have wanted things to progress. We’ve failed you.” The man’s nod indicated himself, Whipvine, and the Emperor, which surprised Terry. “Yes, we knew your mother was your father’s revenant and we allowed her to alter both of your memories on a daily basis to keep that fact hidden. We all admired her greatly and when she asked this of us, we agreed she would be allowed to do it her way. Your father ultimately agreed, too. Before she took those memories.”

Terry turned away, unable to process those words with the three older men staring so intently at him. Other than his father, they had been the men he had looked up to the most in his life—his mentors, his role models…even his friends.

Now, the distance between them was a vast gulf and he realized that he had never truly known any of the three of them. His every memory was suspect.

The worst part about that realization was that none of them were truly to blame. They had been complicit of course. But there was only one person he could fault for stealing his memories, making him doubt every experience he’d ever had.

He turned back, his anger toward his grandfather and the two revenants drained away, his hate feeling hollow and spent.

“Who?” he breathed. “Who killed my mother?”

Mesmer and the Emperor shared a cryptic look, but Whipvine had no poker face, his eyes going wide at the oblique line of questioning.

Terry pursed his lips. “So you do know.” He leaned forward, his eyes burning into his grandfather. “Just tell me one thing: are they still alive?”

He watched his grandfather for any facial tic, any hint of deception in his words or tone. But the Emperor sighed and shook his head slowly.

“No, Terry. Your mother’s murderer is long dead.”

He had so many more questions, so much he wanted to grill the three men about. But Vlad’s body lay unceremoniously on the table, blood seeping onto the floor with rhythmic plops, as if subtly angling for Terry’s attention; calling for vengeance.

The Emperor seemed to notice his attention shift.

“The sanguine are done,” the man said. “Whipvine will tell the elder his people are no longer welcome tonight. They’ll return to the Underworld by morning.”

“You’re letting them go?” Terry asked quietly, betraying none of the anger brewing beneath the surface.

His grandfather must have sensed it anyway, his tone shifting defensively.

“There are politics at play here, Terry. I can’t simply murder my invited guests, can I?”

“Why not?” Terry hissed. “They’ve been violating your own people for over a year.”

“Those deaths are unfortunate. But killing in retaliation would sever any political connection with the sanguine and severely damage my—”

“Your reputation with the Underworld?” Terry whispered, echoing the words he had heard in Mesmer’s memories. His eyes slid up, locking onto his grandfather’s face with an icy stare. “And what about your reputation on Earth?”

The Emperor said nothing, simply holding Terry’s gaze stoically. Terry nodded, flexing his aura with a thought. He saw Mesmer tense and Whipvine had a worried expression, but the Emperor remained stone still.

A portal cut across the air and Terry turned to scoop Vlad up into his arms.

When he looked back at the three old men, he no longer felt anger—only disappointment.

Before they could say another word or think to stop his departure, he was through the portal and back on the warehouse floor.

The portal he had formed high in the rafters still shone bright, illuminating the space with a golden light. He hadn’t expected the sanguine to raid the warehouse with that much sunlight filtering in, but a small part of him had feared they might not be content to leave the warehouse unmolested.

When he saw the others standing in a huddle, he felt that weight leave his shoulders.

Katie was the first to spot him and pointed frantically in his direction. Alan, Peter, and Tristan looked over in excitement, but immediately turned crestfallen once they saw Vlad in his arms.

Tania simply pursed her lips tight, her face painfully stoic as she regarded Vlad’s lifeless body.

“Is he…?” Katie asked, a hint of hope in her voice as they ran over.

Terry nodded, unable to force any words past his tight throat.

Tears slipped down Katie’s face. Peter put a hand around her shoulders and she turned into him, hiding against his chest. Alan looked on silently, his face drawn down into a frown. Tania stood behind them, her arms crossed.

But when Terry looked at Tristan, he didn’t see tears or regret or sadness.

What he saw there was pure, unfiltered rage. Recognizing that anger reignited Terry’s own fire and the two of them locked eyes, understanding passing between them without a word.

He ranged his aura out, feeling Crunch patrolling the warehouse roof high above. With a thought, he summoned the ghoul back from his patrol.

The time for playing defense was past. They were going on the offensive.

When Crunch was with them, Terry got the group’s attention. They regarded him with a spectrum of emotions and he felt it infuse him with purpose.

“The Emperor plans to send the sanguine back to the Underworld tomorrow morning.” Heads whipped around as the group shared surprised looks with each other. “Whipvine will visit them tonight and inform them they are no longer welcome in Wichita.”

He let that sink in, gauging their reactions while keeping his own face stoic.

“Good,” Katie said, her face red from crying. “Send every one of those bloodsuckers back to hell!”

The others didn’t reply at first, but Terry could see the wheels turning in Tristan’s eyes and the set of his lips.

“Tristan?” Terry asked quietly. “Any thoughts?”

He started in surprise, then bit his lip.

“Yeah.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, I have thoughts.” He turned to face the others, his hands suddenly becoming animated. “Fuck that. I don’t want the Emperor to send them back to their homes with a little slap on the wrist.” His eyes flicked toward Terry, who nodded subtly to encourage him. “I want to send them to hell for real. I want to see each and every one of those bastards impaled, burned, or decapitated!” His voice rose as he spoke, passion infusing his words. “For Flore, for Vlad, for Wichita!”

Alan and Peter were hanging on Tristan’s every word and Terry could see their blood rising in response. Katie kept switching her gaze between Tristan and Terry, as if not quite believing what she was hearing.

But Tania had the strongest response, her fists visibly clenching where she crossed her arms, her eyes tearing up even as a fierce snarl began to form on her lips.

“I’m with you, Tristan!” Tania blurted. “Fuck the sanguine and fuck the Emperor! If he won’t make them pay, then it’s up to us!”

Terry carefully kept quiet, letting his aura range out among the group, feeling their emotions spark through his senses. But the one he watched the closest, the one he worried about the most, was his oldest and closest friend.

He worried Crunch’s sense of duty would stop them dead in their tracks. That a sense of obligation would arise and the ghoul would feel compelled to warn the Emperor of their plan. But as Terry’s senses washed over Crunch, he felt a hard, determined shape in answer to his unasked question.

Terry smiled as he recognized the shape, but spoke out loud for the other’s benefit.

“Crunch? You with us?”

The others startled, realizing how openly they had been planning sedition against the Emperor in front of one of his servants.

Crunch didn’t move, his body eerily still as he flicked his single eye toward Terry. His voice grated like a boot on broken glass.

“Obvious.”

Smiles broke out among the others, but Terry wasn’t done.

“Burg and Blood? Will they join or give us away?”

The question hurt to ask—he had come to trust the two ghouls almost as much as he trusted Crunch. But despite how close he had become with the three of them, he also knew that his understanding of ghoulish culture still had gaps and blindspots.

“They follow their prince,” the ghoul said simply, his aura shifting into a confident shape.

Now, Terry finally allowed a smile to touch his face.

“Can you fetch them? I’d rather not portal into the palace unless I have to.”

Crunch took off without a word, moving so fast he was gone before the echo of Terry’s words in the warehouse died out.

He turned back to the others, letting his smile slip as he turned his mind to the seriousness of the situation.

“There’s a couple things we need to do to prepare,” he started. His eyes turned to Vlad’s body and he forced his heart beat steady. “But first, we need to send Vlad off.”

The others took on somber expressions as they regarded the body.

“Do we bury or cremate him?” Alan asked quietly.

“He was an Earth Elementalist,” Katie replied. “He would have wanted to be in the ground, I think.”

Terry nodded, his thoughts immediately turning to the perfect place to send Vlad off.

Nearly a thousand feet below was the pocket of space Vlad always left open. It was their staging area for their trips to and from Terraform’s Market and connected to a long tunnel leading deeper into the earth. The staging area space wasn’t large, just enough for them to step through one of Silver’s portals and begin their journey through the tunnel. They had used it initially to avoid tunneling directly from their warehouse and potentially flagging their operation to an earth-based Awakened or one of the Emperor’s wraiths.

But without Silver to portal them to and from the staging area, the pocket of space had been neglected; they had simply taken the risk of discovery and burrowed into the earth from the warehouse the last time they visited the Market. But now, it could serve one final purpose.

Space split easily as Terry created a connection to that pocket. The portal whooshed into existence in front of them, an opaque oval of blue-silver cutting across the air.

“Let’s push him through together,” Terry suggested.

They each reached down, grabbing Vlad’s body anyway they could. Slowly, with deference, they slid him forward, his head disappearing through the portal, then his torso, and finally his feet.

Terry turned to Alan.

“Can you summon water to ferry him further down the tunnel? He would have liked that, I think.”

Alan looked flustered as he regarded the portal.

“I-it’s too far down! I’ve never worked with water that deep!”

Terry shook his head. “I believe in you, Alan. Just send your aura through and trust your senses.”

Alan hesitated, clearly not believing it to be so simple. But Tania came up beside him, putting a hand on his arm.

“You can do this,” she said softly.

He looked at her, his cheek moving as if he were worrying the inside of it between his teeth. Then, a visible shift took root in his eyes and he nodded confidently.

Aura traced forward from the man, entering the portal slowly. Terry sent his own senses along, feeling Alan work as he ranged among the stone, questing for water.

Vlad’s body lay on the ground, inert and lifeless. But the stone around him seemed to come to life to Terry’s senses. It vibrated, then began to crack. A trickle of water pushed into the space. Then, a flood. Terry felt Vlad’s body begin to drift away on that water, pulled deeper into the tunnel of his own making. After a minute, the surge of water turned back into a trickle and the body disappeared to his senses. They both pulled their auras away and he let the portal drop.

They stood there in respectful silence for a moment, then Terry turned to address them all.

“I think I’m on the verge of ranking up. If I can synthesize this new Skill, I’ll hit the D-rank and have a powerful new weapon against the sanguine. But that doesn’t matter.” He forced confidence into his eyes as he looked at each of them in turn. “Whether or not I rank up, the sanguine die tonight.”

He hesitated, his gaze tracking across Alan, Katie, Peter, and then lingering on Tania.

She must have picked up on where his thoughts were going, because she scowled.

“Nuh-uh. You are not leaving us behind.”

Terry sighed, looking toward Tristan. “We’re the only ones with a counter to the sanguine. Light is the only thing that’ll kill them—”

Tania stomped forward, her face a mask of fury.

“You are not leaving us behind.” She said us, but Terry understood what she was really saying was me. “Sunlight isn’t the only counter. Silver is just as effective. I can buy some silver, turn them into stakes or a sword or—don’t shake your head at me!”

Terry hadn’t realized he’d been doing it, but her harsh tone snapped him out of his unconscious action.

“You think you’re stronger than me because you can make portals!” she demanded, her finger held under his nose. “Well, maybe you are. But I’ve been training with Whip too, and I can swing silver just fine. Flore was my friend. And though Vlad was a pain in my ass, he deserves vengeance. All those stolen in the night by the vampires do. And you don’t get to decide who comes along to deliver that justice, y’hear!”

Terry was reeling under the verbal assault, but eventually settled back in defeat. He looked toward the three others.

“Tania speak for you three as well?”

They didn’t even take a second to confer as Katie spoke for them.

“We’re with you, Terry. And we’re damn sure not gonna hang back while you and Tristan do all the bloody work.”

He sighed quietly, feeling at a loss in the face of their stubborn determination.

Am I just going to get them killed, too?

But after a moment, he realized that he couldn’t make that decision for them. They were adults—more than that, they were Awakened. Even if their powers were more suited for farming than fighting, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be powerful in their own way.

“Okay, I hear you. Start brainstorming plans while I finish ranking up.” He regarded them all, his voice full of ice. “We raid Blood Alley in two hours.”